Rhyme
by notimetolouse
Summary: "History doesn't repeat itself, but it rhymes..." The Kira case is well underway but meanwhile, far away in England, something sinister is afoot at the Wammy's House. And the great detective L is all too aware... T for violence, mild language and themes.
1. Out of Time

**~Rhyme~**

**Chapter 1: "Out of Time"**

**__________**

**History doesn't repeat itself, but it **_**rhymes**_**. **

-Mark Twain

**__________**

"..."

"Mello?"

The blond adolescent's face had gone ashen. He didn't speak for a full minute, just stared at the small black laptop sitting on Roger's desk. The sole other occupant of the room.

The laptop's screen showed nothing but a large black L on a plain white background: There was no facial or vocal expression; nothing that might enlighten Mello to the motivation behind the words it spoke. His correspondent, however, was not in the same position as he was...

xXx

In a plush hotel room far away, inky black eyes bored into a similar computer's screen. This computer displayed not a letter but instead the image of the boy, Mello, aided by a discreet camera placed in the upper right-hand-corner of the room.

Mello's head had been half-thrown back in shock and his eyes were wide. Full of trepidation. It was a far cry from the confidant arrogance he had exhibited when he had first walked into the room to speak with L. This satisfied L for some reason.

L pondered why this was as he chewed the end of a silver spoon in thought. The tea he had been drinking was long gone, and Watari had not yet been in to supply him with more.

"You want me to _what?_" Mello finally managed to choke out, jerking L from his thoughts. The teen's voice was shaking slightly, with an inflection to it that suggested that he was hoping he had misheard the detective.

Which in turn indicated to that detective that he had not misheard at all. L decided not to bother repeating himself. He was pushed for time as it was. He sighed in suppressed annoyance, lightly pressing a key on the laptop and leaning down to the microphone to speak.

"It is... necessary." he began delicately, "I would not ask you to do such a thing if I did not feel it was... absolutely vital-"

"Wait!" Mello cut him off, the confusion on his face turning to indignant anger, "So this means you've chosen _him _then."

L could see the anger and hurt in the boy's eyes. Which, he supposed, was fair enough, being turned down now after so many years of effort, years of sleepless nights studying, indeed, even cheating. And then to have this asked of him on top of that. Still, his self-oriented reaction did not fail to annoy L a little bit, so his long finger moved to the key-pad once more.

"I was 89% sure this would be your reaction." he dead-panned, "But there was a small percentage that you would behave in the manner of an unselfish, fundamentally _good_ person, and actually demand the justification behind my request."

Mello recoiled at the soft words, his face stony in an attempt to hide the hurt that was plain in his eyes. He could never have been the next L. "But since you are more interested in your own concerns, I don't think that I will bother. Suffice to say that if you ignore my direction I will be-"

"L." came a tired voice from the door and L turned in his chair to see Watari standing there, a full teapot in one hand and a box of sugar cubes in the other. His eyes moved from his dark-eyed charge curled up in the armchair to the face of his other, younger charge on the computer screen. His eyes lit with recall and some other emotion the old man rarely wore.

"...Sad." the detective murmured to himself quietly.

"L?" came a confused and scared voice from the machine on his desk, and he turned back to the blond haired boy. His finger went again to the button.

"...Sad." he repeated so that Mello could hear. "I will be sad. Goodnight Mello." At the delicate touch of a button the image of the blond haired boy was replaced with black.

Watari came to stand next to L's chair and poured him a cup of tea in silence. As L began to open the box of sugar cubes the old man hesitantly opened his mouth to speak.

"Did- you just-?"

"Yes," L said softly, selecting a cube. "Mello knows what he must do. You have briefed Roger?" The first sugar cube fell into the tea cup.

"No- I was hoping... well, you might-"

"Change my mind?" L supplied.

He examined Watari out of the corner of his eye, a skill he had honed through much practise. The man was exhausted, that much was easy to see. Worn might be a better word. Worn thin like a rope, ready to break. It was rare moments like this when L wished he could be the one to bring Watari a hot cup of tea instead. Provide him with a deep, comfy armchair, maybe a warm crackling fire. Be the one to tell Watari that he needed rest.

Then it occurred to him that he didn't even know how Watari took his tea. If he even liked tea. He felt a strange, suffocating pressure in his heart at the thought, but ignored it as he ignored all feelings of that sort.

"No Watari. It's much too late for that." L said quietly as the sixth sugar cube fell into the cup. "I don't think... I will be alive for much longer...this case..." L stared into his tea, making no move to drink it or even pick it up. His face was blank, expressionless, but Watari knew him better than that.

"L..." he said, his voice gentle. L felt a firm and warm hand on his shoulder which brought the suffocating pressure back, but he shrugged both the feeling and the hand off. He set his jaw and turned his face from the old man.

"Please brief Roger, Watari. I'd rather not have to ask again." he said shortly. Watari sighed sadly and made to leave the room, before L's voice stopped him once again. This time it had a bitter edge.

"There is no time left to look for a person able enough to take my place, Watari." He said. His eyes were hard as flints; determined as he looked back into the eyes of his guardian. "My only choice is to create it myself."

"I only hope you know what you are doing, L." said Watari quietly.

"I thought you knew me better than that Watari." L replied, allowing himself a small, enigmatic smile. "I _always_ know what I am doing."

_____________

**A/N + Disclaimer: Don't own Death Note. Wish I did. And now that that is overwith... **

**First Multiple Chapter Death Note story!!!! Yay!!!!!! *does a little dance* The good news is, I already have seven and a half chapters all typed up! So updates SHOULD be relatively regular. I was going to wait until the whole story was finished before posting any chapters, but then I thought 'What the hell, I'll just post it. I need the pressure anyway.' **

**Now nothing is very clear as of yet, I know, but: Stay tuned! There are many questions to be answered in the next chapter. Like: What exactly L has ordered Mello to do? What about this would make Watari worry? And what is Roger's role in all this?**

**Read on to find out! :D**

**Fun Fact: This chapter was pure agony to write, and I'm still not entirely sure I like it. In fact, I rewrote it twice, from different points of view. In the first writing I had L actually there in the room with Mello, but then I thought I'd better keep to canon and have him on his computer. Then I decided I wanted Watari in it, so I rewrote it again but changed Mello's point of view to Ls. I have heard a smart person say once that "writing is rewriting" so hopefully it's not all bad. =P  
**

**Anywho. Let me know what you think ;3**

**~CANDY  
**


	2. A Nightmare

**Chapter 2: "A Nightmare"**

**_________**

12 year-old Nate "Near" Rivers woke up with a start. He stared with wide, dark eyes at the ceiling for a moment, breathing in and out in a steady rhythm. Trying to calm himself. In and out. In and out.

He had been having a recurring nightmare lately; that all the leaders of the world had all gathered together in a conference. There they had decided that the best solution to the world's problems would be to simply put it out of it's misery and nuke it into oblivion.

In his dream Near was the only one who cared, who didn't want to die. It had ignited a feeling of intense panic in him, as each person he confronted seemed absolutely fine with the situation. Didn't seem to care that they were all going to die. Of course now, awake in his small white room, he knew how ridiculous the whole idea was and it was easy to shake the images of burning flesh from his mind.

Hearing no noises from outside his door that indicated others had risen, he rolled over onto his side to look at the alarm clock that sat on his bedside table.

"5:21 AM"

Near retreated deeper into his blankets. He closed his eyes, savouring the warmth and softness, trying to go back to sleep. The blinking red light of the clock seeped through his eye lids, however, and he found that he could not ignore it. Frowning in annoyance he sat up and pushed the blankets off, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

Briefly he wondered what one did at five o'clock in the morning when they couldn't sleep. He gazed around his room at the dark shapes of his toys, robots, books and puzzles, all a dark, muted red in the light of the alarm clock. None of them particularly drew him tonight. He wanted something new.

After a brief moment of thought he decided on exploration and slid off the bed, shuffling over to the drawer where he kept his socks. After he slipped them on he wriggled his toes around inside them, thinking about where he would go. Deciding on the gardens, he got to his feet and, ignoring the pair of shoes by the door, began his venture.

He wouldn't get even as far as the kitchens.

As he passed the doorway that led into the mess hall he stopped, noticing that the light was on. Pushing the door lightly he poked his head curiously into the room. At one of the white tables sat Mello, staring vacantly into a mug of hot chocolate that wasn't steaming any more.

"...Can't you sleep either?" Near inquired softly.

Mello's head snapped up and his eyes met those of the small,white haired boy standing in the doorway. Near didn't understand the look in them. They were red-rimmed and shining, like he'd just been... _'Sad?'_

"Mello?" he asked, his voice concerned.

"What." The blonde spat, glaring back into his hot chocolate.

"Are you alright?" Near asked timidly. His friend wasn't usually so harsh like this. Not with Near anyway.

"What the fuck is it to you?" Mello stood now, fists shaking angrily. "I- well I-" Near's stomach made a little twist of uncertainty as he met Mello's furious eyes. There was a long, tense pause as Mello waited for an answer, taking a few slow, aggressive steps forward. "I...couldn't sleep..." Near whispered, clutching the door-frame tightly.

Mello paused, examining Near for a moment. Reading the fear and confusion in his eyes. There was no one around... everyone was still asleep... But he couldn't bring himself to- Near took the opportunity to give a small, timid but kind smile.

That familiar, odd smile. Gritting his teeth in some internal struggle, Mello turned from Near."Just go away and leave me alone."

Near frowned in confusion and worry. "Are you sure you're-" Mello quickly span, grabbing the front of Near's shirt violently.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!!!!"

"Mell-!" Near was silenced by a hard punch to the nose, which made his eyes water and his head spin.

"SHUT-UP-YOU-LITTLE-SHIT-THIS-IS-ALL-YOUR-FAULT!" Every word was punctuated by another punch. Near fell to the ground under the rain of blows, but Mello did not stop.

Mello attacked Near with fierce abandon, tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes, teeth gritted. He left no part of Near's pale skin unmarked. Every energy he spent only on putting the other boy in as much pain as he could. Near barely made a sound, his mouth partly open in shock and pain, but silent. After one hard blow to the mouth, Near feebly tried to push his attacker away, as blood stained his white lips.

"_I hate you_." Mello sobbed as he landed a kick in Near's chest, causing the smaller boy to stumble and fall through the door, bashing his head against the hallway wall. Only after another kick brought a loud crack from Near's abdomen and he let out a wrenching scream of agony, did Mello stop his assault.

Once Mello had moved back, hands still shaking with adrenaline, did the small boy in white try to move. He managed to drag himself onto his hands and knees, one hand clutched to his ribs.

"What-...for... ?" He whispered as blood dripped in strings from his mouth, staining his white knees.

Mello said nothing, but fled, as the discreet camera in the corner of the room looked on impassively.

xXx

Near had calculated in his head how far he would have had to drag himself to get to the infirmary, but as he tried to move a searing pain shot through his chest and he fell, biting back a scream. Instead he lay, alone in the hallway softly crying, praying someone would wake up soon and notice him.

He lay there for an hour, slipping in and out of consciousness, trying not to breathe too much. He was pulled back to reality when he heard soft footsteps coming up the hall, and a familiar, impatient tongue-clicking. Near almost cried out in relief. Roger was coming. The footsteps drew nearer and soon enough the old man was standing over him. Something like horror flashed in his eyes but then it was gone, replaced by utter disgust.

"Ro...ger..." Near sighed in relief, but Roger was shaking his head in frustration.

"I don't have _time_ for this!" he burst out angrily, and continued to dash down the hallway, leaving the little white boy bleeding on the carpet.

"R- Roger?" Near choked, still too shocked to be hurt.

Another half hour passed and the shock wore off.

Near came to with a pair of tinted goggles hovering over him.

"Jesus Christ, Near, what _happened_ to you?" the redhead murmured, chewing a toothpick thoughtfully. Near opened his lips but all that escaped was an unintelligible whimper. "That so?" Matt replied lightly. "Well I guess you're having a bit of a hard time getting to the infirmary. Want some help?" Near only gave a weak smile.

"You got it." Matt responded, slipping his arms underneath the younger boy, lifting him gently from the ground. He carried Near down the hallway, quietly talking to him all the way to the infirmary.

"Actually, better not tell what happened, you know, cause shit like this would make for one EPIC war story later, you know what I mean? Like involving ninjas, or mutants or something like that. All the younger kids'd believe you too, I mean, come on, your word is like law for them." Near was silent, only breathing shallowly, "Why all the modesty? You know it as well as I do." The redhead joked as they rounded the corner into the little room that smelled of bleach.

"Ma'am?" he asked the fat infirmary lady who was on the phone. "Injured soldier here." he said, gesturing with the boy in his arms, causing Near to flinch.

"On the phone, sweetie." she said shortly to him, before turning her back on him, continuing to speak into the phone. "I _know_ darling, but _she_ said-"

"Um, seriously Ma'am, he's like, delirious from blood loss or something-"

"Patience is a virtue, boyo." she snapped. "Oh, not you, it's nothing darling, there's just some kid here-"

"Its not fucking nothing! _Look at him!!_" cried Matt, his voice rising in indignation.

"Oh, for Christ's sake!" she let out an explosive sigh. "Just chuck him on one of the beds over there, I'll take a look at him in a minute! Stop _bothering_ me."

Matt gaped a little at the woman for a moment before carrying Near into the room where two hard, white mattresses stood. Matt lay him down on one of them gently, propping his platinum head up on one of the plastic-covered pillows.

"You'll be okay without me, right soldier?" Matt asked seriously. Near grabbed the sleeve of his stripy shirt, managing to whisper.

"Don't...go..."

"Sorry man, big test today, I'll be in shit if I don't show. Tell you what though, I'll come back and visit you later, make sure she takes care of you, yeah? Hey, I'll even bring Mello." Matt smiled proudly at the idea, missing Near's silent "No". "Anywho, see you later man. Try to like, heal...and stuff..."

With a wide grin of encouragement splashed across his face he saluted the pale boy on the plastic-covered bed and was gone.

"Don't...go..." Near pleaded to the empty room.

xXx

"No one remembered to inform Matt." L observed to Watari over his shoulder, his tone displeased. He tipped the ninth spoonful of sugar into his half-full teacup. "See to it that someone does. As soon as possible, please."

Watari came to stand behind him, looking over his shoulder at the monitors that played the video message sent by the Kira impersonator to Sakura TV two days ago. In silence, Watari muted them and looked at another screen, the sole monitor that did not show the pseudo-Kira's message, but instead showed an injured boy trying in vain to go to sleep.

"How long has he been lying there?" Watari asked, a catch in his voice.

"About an hour. He is holding up quite nicely. I am considering upping the anti a little when-"

"L, the boy needs treatment."

"And he shall get it. _After_ I am satisfied that-"

"This is wrong."

"Ethically, perhaps. Strategically, no." L's wide, dark eyes did not leave the screen as he brought the tea cup to his lips. Watari followed his gaze. His own eyes couldn't help but sting a little, watching the boy's tears trickle steadily from the corners of his eyes, down his bruised face.

"That's exactly how you looked when I found you." Watari murmured.

"So what are you worrying for? I turned out perfectly fine, did I not?" L said, his voice and face expressionless and he rose from his chair, leaving Watari alone in the room.

"I hope so, my son." he whispered, picking up the empty teacup. "Though now, I'm not so certain..."

* * *

**A/N: Whoo! Another chapter down and out of the way! And now we see that _the plot thickens_!! Do let me know what you think of the new developments. Reviews are nommier than sugary tea and also encourage me to write faster~ ^^ ****Ciao for now!**

**~CANDY**


	3. I Think, I Know

**A/N: Thought I'd give you a little heads up before I continue with this most awesome latest chapter: Pretty much every character in this Fic reaches their full potential for eeeeeevil. Like, **_**everyone**_**. So don't get too worried if one of the characters starts acting absolutely terrible, there's always a good reason for it, even if its not clear at first. After all, I'm trying to keep everybody in character as much as is humanly possible for this Fic, to keep the realism levels at their highest. That being said, I won't detain you any longer. Here it is!!!**

**Chapter 3: "I Think, I Know"**

______________

Matt wouldn't have been able to visit Near even if he hadn't been instructed not to, because Near was moved to the closest hospital before dinner time. No big fuss was made out of it; it wasn't even treated as an important occurrence; after about an two hours the fat infirmary lady stuck her head round the door, decided that he probably had a broken rib, and had him carted off to the hospital.

Now he lay alone in a pale yellow room of beeping monitors, mildly stoned on morphine. He amused himself by tilting his head at a certain angle, which allowed him to hallucinate a small line of ants crawling up the side of the wall, as he hovered between sleep and consciousness. He had overheard some of the doctors conversing about just what kind of condition he was in, but at the present he couldn't really remember what they had said. Just something about broken ribs and internal bleeding.

As of yet, no one had asked him how he had come by his injuries. In his numb state he vaguely speculated that perhaps Roger had paid them not to ask questions about the boy who did not legally exist. It didn't really concern him very much. Nothing much could make him concerned at the moment.

Then all of a sudden Roger entered the room, an annoyed look on his face.

"Hello, um...Near." he said, as if he was having trouble remembering the boy's name. That didn't make any sense, Near thought vaguely. He had been in the number one spot for as long as he had been at the orphanage. Why would Roger have forgotten his name all of a sudden? Roger carried a black laptop satchel under his shoulder. "I have been instructed to provide you with this..." he paused, setting the bag on the beside table and opening it. "To keep you... intellectually stimulated? ...during your stay here. Which it turns out, may be quite a while as ..."

Near drifted to sleep as Roger's voice droned on in the background. That night he dreamed of Roger, Mello, Matt and the Infirmary Lady watching on impassively as he lay burning, screaming for help.

xXx

"Near?"

"...Hnn?" Near pulled himself upright, gasping as more pain shot through his chest. One effect it did have on him was that now he was fully awake, if still a little foggy from the painkillers. He looked around the room for a moment, trying to work out where the strange voice had come from. He had almost decided he had again been hallucinating when his eyes landed on a black laptop sitting on his beside table. On its screen a large, Gothic "L" was emblazoned; an image Near remembered well. "Oh. It's you."

On the outside, Near was uninterested by the famous detective's presence but inside he couldn't help but be intrigued.. Why was L taking an interest in him now? What was the great detective's agenda in speaking directly with him? Near had gotten over the thrill of being in the presence of a world-wide legend quite quickly, the last time they had come into contact. It didn't matter to him any more.

"How are you feeling?" the computer's smooth-as-water voice inquired. It was a voice that always struck Near as what electricity should sound like.

"Is morphine supposed to make you hallucinate?" Near didn't answer the question, but instead supplied one of his own. The L computer didn't skip a beat, seeming to be quite comfortable in skipping the pleasantries.

"Well, morphine _is_ an opiate, with essentially the same active ingredient as heroin. However it shouldn't be causing hallucinations; unusual dreams perhaps, but not outright hallucinations. Not unless it was administered carelessly in much too large a dosage at the start. Are you saying you've been experiencing hallucinations?"

Administered carelessly. Somehow Near couldn't really find it in himself to be surprised.

"Opiate... As in opium? As in the Opium Wars between Great Britain and China where Britain was smuggling opium into China in order to balance their purchases for tea, but then China reinforced it's prohibitions by destroying a whole bunch of opium that they had confiscated at Canton,-"

"You mean Guangzhou?" L offered. A small, curious smile rose to Near's lips at the unspoken challenge.

"Exactly. Guangzhou, the romanisation of which came probably from the Portuguese 'Cantao'," _I'm still right. _"But that's not important. What's important is that the destruction of the opium sparked a short, intense war that only ended with the treaty of... um-"

"Nanjing."

"Right." Near smiled a little in defeat. L had still beaten him, but he didn't mind. It was L, after all, and the intellectual exposition had served its purpose- distracting him from the stabbing pain in his chest for a little while. After a moment of silence he spoke again. "We won that one."

"You consider yourself on the side of the Britons?" the machine purred. L's soft question confused Near.

"Well I live in Great Britain-"

"An Italian man might live in Australia. A Russian might live in Japan."

"That's true I guess... I don't know if I was born here or not. But still, It's the only country I have ever known, so if I belong anywhere, it must be here."

"There's no written rule that says one must belong to some place at all."

"You don't feel you belong anywhere?" Near inferred.

"I prefer to feel that when I am in a place; I do not belong to it but rather, it belongs to me."

The concept was new to Near and he thought it over carefully, finding he liked the idea of it. He lay back on his pile of pillows breathing shallowly; not too deep or it would hurt too much.

"You should practise taking deep breaths." L remarked, and Near cocked his head. "It is important to keep your lungs healthy while your rib heals." L said, by way of explanation. Something about the tone sparked Near's curiosity, and he looked around the room, his eyes eventually falling upon a small, discreet camera above the small window.

"Found you." Near observed.

"Well done." The computer replied. There was something of a smile in it's tone. Then, after a short silence Near spoke again;

"L?" the word was soft and hesitant.

"Yes?"

"What are you doing here?"

"...Conversing with you-"

"_Why, _L?" For a split second Near's unaffected mask fell away and miles away, sitting in a hotel armchair, L got a glimpse at the confused, frightened and hurt boy inside. Emotions he knew too well. Back in the hospital, a sound like a sigh came from the computer.

"...Because... I, like you... am... surrounded by people at present who do not... _understand_ me. Who do not... intellectually equal myself. Some of which who intensely dislike me..." Mello's face, distorted with anger and hatred sprang unbidden to Near's mind, and he bit his lip, hard.

"One of whom, in fact, I believe wants to kill me," L continued, "by means, I have recently learnt, of a supernatural nature," Near recalled the peculiar Kira case that had been all over the news. So it had been supernatural after all? An uneasy feeling sowed itself into the pit of his stomach.

"For which, it appears, there is no defence. So I suppose... well I suppose I just needed someone to... talk... to..." L finished awkwardly. The statement caught Near completely off-guard. Still, L's quiet confession struck something in Near, and he smiled an odd little smile.

"And you chose me?" he asked quietly, secretly pleased.

"I suppose I did." L replied.

"How come?"

"I... had no one else to choose... Though now I am curious. Would you have chosen me?"

Near thought about it for a while. Who else was there? First Mello came to mind, but he threw away that thought immediately. What ever Mello had been to him before, he was entirely something else now. What that was Near didn't really know, and didn't really want to dwell on. Then he thought of Matt, but Matt had never really listened to him, he had always just talked.

He had never really been that close with anyone else, Linda only ever said the odd hello and Roger... Well he wasn't sure about Roger at all any more... everything had changed overnight...

"Yes." he finally concluded, quietly. "I don't think I have anyone else to choose from either, any more." sadly. A few quiet footsteps floated in from the hallway.

"Your medication." stated L, shortly. "I will have to be going now, as well. I look forward to speaking with you again soon."

"L, don't-"

"Goodbye Near."

Click.

"...go?" The screen was black. Near sighed, and glared at the Nurse who was backing through the door, carrying a trolley of many clear and coloured liquids.

xXx

L chewed his thumb in thought, staring at the blank screen. Over all, the conversation had gone well, although the end of it hadn't gone quite according to plan. Still-

"Your cake, L." Watari solemnly set the china plate down on the table in front of L.

"Thank you Watari." The old man hesitated, then stiffly turned away. "Watari?"

"..."

"What is it that you want to confront me about?"

There was another short silence in the room as the old man stopped where he stood, organising his thoughts.

"I believe ...I think I know what you are attempting to do with the boy now, L." Watari declared. L span around in his chair, his cake resting on his knee. He looked at his guardian with blank, inky eyes.

"Well, let's hear it then." L dead-panned, taking a bite of cake.

"By indirectly abusing, isolating, neglecting and humiliating the boy you intend to create within him a mindset of mistrust. In time, he will begin to never accept anything at face value, he will always second guess, will always be suspicious of everyone around him.

"He will not be able to form proper relationships with anyone, but he will not want to. He will emotionally withdraw from every situation he is put in, from the world entirely. Look at everything in a purely objective and logical light." Tears began forming in the old man's eyes. What he was saying was all so heart-breakingly familiar. "L, this is child abuse, you cannot do it, it is against the law-."

"I am the law, Watari."

"L, this is _absolutely_ the _wrong_ course of action to-"

"That it certainly is."

"..."

"I hate every single second of it and _don't_ think that I don't." Watari was taken aback, speechless at L's sudden anger. "But I know that it is also the _only_ course of action to take."

"L, be reasonable, there is surely another way-"

_Smash_.

"I know no other way, Watari, if I did, I would be utilising it, but as it is there is simply no time left to think of one, alright?!" The china plate lay to the floor in a thousand pieces.

L's voice became low and deadly. "I might die tomorrow, Watari. In fact, I have _every reason_ to suspect that I will. And then that- _abomination_ would be on the loose and there would be _no one_ to stand against him! All the so-called forces of justice around the world would fold like the cowards they are without anyone to pin their hopes and blame their shortcomings on. Can you _imagine _thekind of world that that would create? Do you understand why I am doing this now? He must _not_ go unopposed. There _has _to be a-"

"Backup?" Watari's voice was cold, and L's eyes hardened.

"That was your mistake old man, not mine." He turned back to the blank computer screen, hitting a button, bringing up the video footage of investigator Ukita dying of a heart attack to analyse once more. Watari closed his eyes.

"L, I am sorry, I did not mean-"

"Yes you did."

Watari gazed at the raven haired man, whom he often still saw as a child. A frightened child, lying, bleeding on a hospital bed. Now he sat in a hotel, watching one of his team die over and over again on the flickering monitor. More frightened than he had ever been before. "...I am so sorry."

____________

**A/N: Which brings us to the end of another chapter!!! Hopefully that cleared some stuff up for you, and everything makes sense now, though don't fret if not EVERYTHING makes sense yet, because there is more on the way! In other news, are you proud of me that I managed to get in a Beyond reference? *giggles* (And ****is it just me or does every chapter seem to end with Watari?)**

**Fun fact: Turns out if the dosage of morphine begins too high it can cause hallucinations. Who knew?**

**Please, don't be shy! Let me know what you think!  
**

**Speaking of which, I'd like to also give a big thankyou to ~Chrysus, ~marshMello6170 and of course Suzette for their reviews. You guys rock! ;) See ya!  
**

**~CANDY  
**


	4. Rain and Snow

**A/N: I'm baaaaack! Not that I was gone very long... Anywho, for those who _care_, in this particular chapter there is a scene which does not _have_ to be taken as yaoi, but you definitely can take it that way if you like. So hopefully those who don't like yaoi will like it, and also those who do. Now I'll stop yabbering and give you the chapter. Voila! Here it is! *flourish***

**Chapter 4: "Rain and Snow"**

For the rest of the time that Near spent in the hospital, he waited for L to return, but the days came and went and the laptop sat on the bedside table, silent and blank. While he waited he amused himself with building a construction out of the things he found laying around the room.

In his minds eye he envisioned a majestic castle with tiers and bridges and a giant spire rising from the centre. It was elegant and commanding in presence. Beautiful. Of course, since he was in a hospital there were limited materials to build it out of, so it ended up a sturdy, if ugly, fort. Near surveyed it critically once he had completed it.

It was at that point that the nurse burst through the door. He looked up and smiled proudly at her, his stoic creation standing proudly behind him. There was no "How marvellous! You're on your feet! How do you feel?" to greet him.

"...Is that the bedside table?...and the... chair?"

"Yes I had to dismantle them so that they would fit together properly. But it's okay, because the computer can just sit on the windowsill... like this, you see?"

"You smashed apart the chair."

"Well I didn't have any tools so I couldn't exactly take it apart the conventional way-"

"How _dare _you? This is hospital property!"

"I'm- sorry?"

"Urgh... so _selfish_ and just ..._completely_ inconsiderate." she muttered hatefully to herself as she quickly began to dismantle his creation. Muttered loud enough for him to hear.

"I'm sorry I- _it's just a chair_!" Near cried out, stung, his eyes swimming.

"Look, I only _came in_ to tell you that you're being released. There should be a car waiting for you outside. Just get out of this room so I can clean up this mess you've made." she snapped.

"I _said_ I was sorry." Near said, his hurt turning to anger. She began muttering to herself, still pulling apart his building.

"What gives _you_ the right to just go ahead and ruin something that doesn't belong to you? Just walk into a place like you own it and-"

"I do own it." Near declared quietly, his eyes narrowing. She looked up.

"I'm sorry, what?"

He walked over to where she was kneeling on the ground and stood over her, his eyes gaining a peculiar cold, hard edge for the first time in his life.

"I don't know who you are," he began, his voice quiet and expressionless, "and I'm pretty certain you have no idea who I am. You most definitely didn't show it in your caring for me or rather the _lack_ of any care and I'll bet this doesn't bother you in the slightest. No, the idea that you might have to do a little extra work is what bothers you, more than the fact that a child could die tomorrow. But what are _you_? A mere nurse in a shitty hospital miles from anywhere who has nothing more important to do with her time than whinge at children like me.

"And you know what? _I don't care_ about your pathetically insignificant problems. I have _much_ more important things to do with my time. You are completely worthless to me and frankly, the world would probably be better off without you in it. Not that your presence makes much of a difference."

The nurse just stared at him, frozen and faltering under his quiet, cold gaze. No child had ever spoken to her with such contempt before, hell, no _person _had. However she could find no retort anywhere in her mind so she just stared dumbstruck, as the boy shuffled over to the windowsill, carefully picking up the laptop and holding it under his arm.

"So if you'll excuse me." and with a small, odd smile he was gone.

xXx

Near sat outside in the rain for over an hour, waiting for someone to pick him up. His chest hurt, but he concentrated on taking deep, steady breaths, like L had said. His precious laptop he hid under his shirt, in a vain attempt to protect it from the rain, for in a couple of minutes he was soaked through anyway.

Eventually a black sedan pulled up in front of him, and he stood, opening the door and climbing into the back seat. It was even colder in the car than it was outside, because the driver of it had the air conditioning turned to full-blast.

After an hour in the car it finally pulled to a stop and Near stumbled out, still soaking and unable to feel his hands and feet. It took him a few minutes trying push open the heavy iron gates by himself, as the driver had left him there, alone. After a while he decided that he couldn't manage it alone, and grimly resolved that he would have to climb it. Pushing the laptop underneath the gate to the other side was the easy part. The bars were wet and slippery in the rain, and with every movement pain shot up his chest.

As he climbed he couldn't help but know that something was awfully wrong. After all, he wasn't stupid, he knew that it was wrong to leave someone bleeding on the floor. He knew it was wrong to abandon someone in trouble, to neglect someone who needed care. To leave someone standing in the rain in front of a gate they couldn't possibly open by themselves. Forcing someone with a broken rib to climb said gate in the rain, where they could fall and injure themselves even m-

"No- !"

His drenched sock missed the bar and he slipped. There was nothing he could do about it, but in desperation he did manage to give his body one last heave to ensure that he at least fell on the right side of the gate.

He hit the muddy ground with a thud and a sob. All the pain he had felt before his stay in the hospital was back, searing through his body.

For an immeasurable amount of time he just lay there and cried until his eyes were dry, until his throat was sore. He didn't understand anything that was happening. He was so lost and alone. He kept trying to think of reasons. Reasons and reasons why people had started acting to him in the way that they had. Why Mello hated him now, why Roger was sick of him, why no one he came into contact with showed any kind of kindness towards him. It didn't make any sense.

He was usually so good at figuring out problems, but this time he was at a loss, and it terrified him. The only reason he could think of was that he must have done something horrible. Something to deserve this. Roger and Mello weren't completely irrational beings. They wouldn't have done something like this without a good reason. The only thing was, he couldn't remember for the life of him what he had done to make everyone hate him. Only Matt and-

"L!" he gasped, dragging himself over to where the black laptop innocently lay in the mud. He wrapped his arms around it, holding it close to his chest. Praying to a god he didn't believe in that it hadn't been damaged by the mud or the rain.

After a few more minutes lying still in the rain, he was able to drag himself to his feet and stumble up the drive to his home. The hallway was deserted when he entered. Something about being back here, in the hallway where it had happened made Near's stomach turn in anxiety. It made him tense and paranoid, but he fought the panic down.

Everyone was probably at dinner right now. The last thing Near wanted to do at the moment was plunge himself into a room of people and try to force food down his aching throat. Instead he made his miserable way down the white halls to the communal bathrooms, desperate to get clean and warm.

After choosing a clean white towel from the Towel Cupboard he gently lay the laptop on the bench that stood outside the shower cubicles. Eventually he stepped into one of them, gingerly stripping off his muddy clothes starting the water running.

For an eternity he just stood, letting the steaming water cascade over him, his hands and feet burning as the blood began to flow through them again. He stood, staring at a crack in a tile, mud swirling down the drain as the water washed his hair and his skin white again.

Then a screech and a bang.

Near froze and tensed, ears pricked for any sound, no matter how small. Nothing but the steady rush of water in his ears, and his quickening heartbeat. Then, the low thrum of a male voice, and a responding crow of laughter. There were other people in the bathroom.

He hoped that maybe if he waited for long enough they would go away, but minutes dragged by and the voices continued to echo around the room. It was either wait, or get out now, before the hallway began to fill with people coming back from dinner. For a few moments Near fought a struggle in his mind, but there was only one conclusion he could come to.

Near hesitantly turned the water off. At the change the voices stopped, and there was a silence. An expectant silence.

He decided the easiest way to do this would be quickly so he wrapped the towel around himself, aiming to quickly get to his room and a dry, warm set of clothes. The door swung open but he barely made two steps before he stopped in his tracks; frozen. _Oh god. Not you. _

There, sprawled on the bench top by the sinks, in black skinny jeans and combat boots was Mello. And behind him, one arm draped over the blond's skinny shoulder and the other playing with a cigarette lighter, was Matt.

Mello was here. Near's flight instincts by now had fully kicked in and he wanted nothing more than to get out of there as fast as he could. But before he made a step a realisation struck him. L's computer. Near's eyes widened in trepidation. It sat on the bench behind the sinks. He would have to pass Mello to get to it. Still, Matt was here too so maybe if he could just... They both looked at him as he stood there conflicted, water dripping from his hair, puddling about his feet.

"Oh, it's you." the redhead said disinterestedly, bringing an unlit cigarette to his lips. There was an edge to his tone though, that was kind of condescending. Contemptuous. An edge that told Near that the kindness he had received when he had been hurt was far behind them. Would not be shown again. Near wondered whether it was Mello, who had told Matt to act this way. Matt always did what Mello said...

Near did wonder why; why everything had changed, but it had happened now too many times for Near to be shocked. He instead settled on being merely hurt. It was a deep, festering hurt.

"What's with the face, Snow White? It's not like we're here to rape you." Mello offered after a moment of tense silence. Near couldn't prevent a crimson tinge rising to his cheeks at the remark. It wasn't the crudeness, no. After spending most of his life around Mello he had gotten used to that.

No, what had shocked him was the use of "Snow White". The name Mello had teasingly used for him all of his life at Wammy's. After a while Near hadn't minded it so much, besides, Mello wasn't only his rival, but also his friend. Hearing it now however, used contemptuously rather than affectionately- as an insult- hurt more than any broken rib Mello could have given him.

"If you're not here to assault me, then what _are_ you here for?" Near demanded angrily, thankful that his voice did not shake or waver. He clutched the towel around him tight, his eyes darting to the bench just behind Mello and Matt, wishing that he could just get the computer and escape.

"We only came here 'cause Matt needed to smoke, and this is the only room in Wammy's-"

"With no cameras fitted." Finished Near quietly, working it out on his own. The realisation made his stomach twist again in trepidation, but underneath the fear were questions that refused to be ignored. Questions that hurt. How long had Matt been smoking? Why was Near the last to know?

"Okay then." He said quietly, too afraid to ask anything more. "Well I'm gonna go, now, so-" he made a move to the laptop, but Mello was faster than him.

"Whoa there, princess." every muscle of Near's body tensed as Mello grabbed him roughly by the shoulder, causing him to stumble back a few steps. "Why're you in such a hurry? We haven't seen you in a while. Besides, I still have a question."

As he spoke Mello withdrew a fresh bar of chocolate from his jacket pocket and ripped off the wrapping. He bit into it with a loud snap that made Near flinch, then looked up to meet Near's eyes.

Near held Mello's gaze determinedly, his jaw set. He looked a lot more brave than he felt. He felt vulnerable. So vulnerable it made him sick. There were no cameras in these rooms. Mello could do anything to him here, and no one would know. No one would know until they had found him.

"What's that?"

"He wants to know why the computer sitting on the bench is so very important to you." It was Matt who boredly voiced the query instead, tapping his cigarette so that the ash fell outside the window.

"It's not important to me." Near firmly denied, hoping his expression would back up his words.

"Oh, please." Matt sighed. "I know the deep and profound bond between a man and his machine when I see it." Matt informed him disinterestedly. Mello turned around to his best friend, a look of mild disgust on his face.

"That is just about the geekiest thing I think you have ever said." he declared.

"You wouldn't love me if I were any different~." Matt sang, not looking away from the window. Near took the chance to try and make a dash for the computer while attention was averted from him, but again Mello was too fast.

This time he caught Near by the hair, which made Near slip over in a puddle of water and fall onto his back. He bit back a cry of pain as Mello sat down upon his chest, pinning his hands firmly to the tiles, nose only a few inches from his own. Every breath was agony with Mello's full, crushing weight upon Near's broken rib. His vision swam.

"Get off me!" Near cried, trying to wriggle from underneath the blonde. His head was spinning. "Mello- I can't breathe-"

"Now now," Mello purred threateningly into his ear, "Let's not get panicky." he bit another piece from his chocolate bar.

Matt said nothing but leaned forward, watching the situation in mild interest. When Near threw him a desperate glance he didn't respond, just continued to watch the pair, cold and detached. Near fought the tears of terror and agony that threatened to well up in his eyes as Mello continued to speak. "I mean seriously Near, you're overreacting. We only want to know what the laptop's for and who gave it to you."

"Please-" Near choked, black spots appearing in front of his eyes.

An expression of annoyance on his face, Mello stood and Near could breathe once more. His face was flushed and his breath came in short gasps, but he could see clearly once again. Mello went over to the laptop, picking it up and turning it over in his hands.

"So what's so special about it?" he asked, looking it over, as if for a clue.

"Its nothing special, it's just a stupid computer." Near spat, but his eyes were fixed on the blonde and the computer in his hands.

"Then why bring it to a bathroom?" Mello wondered out loud as he set the computer down, one side resting up on a step that led down to one of the showers. Then he raised his foot above it, preparing to stomp it into the gutter. "It just seems kind of pointless to-"

"STOP IT!" Mello paused, mid-stomp, looking up and raising an eyebrow. Near quickly looked away, more red rising to his cheeks as his lie was exposed. Mello stooped to pick the computer up, slipping the chocolate bar into his jacket pocket, his expression fed-up.

"Okay, Near, I'm getting bored of this." He stormed over to where Near was kneeling, grabbing a fistful of his hair. "WHO GAVE IT TO YOU?" he roared as Near cringed away from him.

Near wasn't sure what he should have said, only that he couldn't tell them the truth.

"No one gave it to me." he lied quietly.

"...No one-" Mello repeated hesitantly, letting go of the small, white-haired boy.

"I got it myself." Mello cocked his head to the side, thinking, a smirk gracing the corners of his lips.

"...Hold on, are you saying you _stole_ it?"

"Wh- No!"

Mello raised his eyebrows, turning to Matt, who simply took a puff of his cigarette and shrugged. Mello turned back to Near, smirk turning to a sickeningly sweet smile. "Of course not." he purred.

"I didn't! I- _I'm not a liar!_" Near's hands balled into shaking fists at his sides.

"Oh, I know, Snow. I sure do believe you. But I think you should probably leave soon," his voice was quiet and sweet, but there was a malicious glee behind it that he didn't even bother to conceal. "You'll want to get to your room and put on some real clothes. Before dinner is over and everyone starts coming out." he tucked the computer under his arm, and Near knew that that was where it was going to stay.

Tears of fury and hate welled up in his eyes. He had no chance of getting it back now, that much was apparent. He wished he was strong enough to rip the machine from Mello's hands but he knew he wasn't. There was no way he could get it back now.

"I hope you _die_." he muttered venomously, then fled the room, having to leave his precious computer behind.

xXx

Later, back in his room Near wiped his angry tears on the white covers into which he burrowed. They were heavy and comfortingly familiar, but nothing could block out the festering rage that came from the knowledge that Mello had his computer. That L would think he had lost it, or broken it... That L might talk to Mello instead. He felt sick.

Still, slowly the pain in his rib became only a dull throbbing. He burrowed deeper into the warmth of the covers, closing his eyes. After all, there was no one that could hurt him here. This was his own room, the one he had to himself, where no one else would- _could_ come. This was where he could feel safe...

But he slept with the light on, that night.

* * *

**A/N: Another chapter, done and dusted. Whew! *wipes brow theatrically*Oh noes! Mello has the L computer! Whatever shall Near do? :O Find out next, on channel "Causing Near Pain" =P**

**Fun Fact: That scene with Mello originally didn't take place in a bathroom, but in the hallway. Course, then I realised Near was still covered in mud, and he doesn't strike me as the kind of person who would go to bed soaking and muddy. He actually seems more like a clean freak to me. Probably something to do with all that white. Anywho, so I changed it to the bathroom. Which ended up working reeeeally well. Did you like it? Let me know, please! ;) Reviews are the reason I post this stuff, after all.**

**Speaking of which, more thank yous, this time to the awesome** **~eternal-memorys and the fabulous ~Knut Case for their reviews on the last chapter!**

**And remember folks, don't eat anything that smells faintly of bitter almonds!~ 3**

**Love CANDY**


	5. Justice and Vengeance

**Chapter 5: "Justice and Vengeance" **

Classes the next day were agony. Near's injured rib continued to throb mercilessly and the quizzes and tests weren't nearly interesting enough to distract him from the pain.

Today the subject was influential figures of the 20th century, a subject which Near liked. He found it more engaging than maths or science which could be solved in the blink of an eye, probably because, he speculated, there was no one correct answer. No formula that determined an individual or group's behaviour.

History was very subjective, very complicated. Intricate to a dizzying degree. Like a huge, three dimensional jigsaw puzzle of a billion pieces, all different shapes and sizes. Fitting together in a different way depending on which angle you viewed it from. History was often different depending on who's side of the story was told. Because people weren't like maths and science, they were unpredictable, unreliable, and all of them completely different; and that is what made them so interesting for Near.

Unfortunately because of this interest he had learnt the answers to all of the questions at least two years ago, through his own private reading.

He powered through all the questions on inventors and scientists and peace fighters and Nobel prize winners, until he reached his favourite topic. Dictators.

"_Lenin was a real dictator, people followed him not out of fear, but with pleasure," _he wrote on the man who with his political party the Bolsheviks had essentially orchestrated the Russian revolution.

Lenin was the kind of man Near felt he could respect. He had risen from relative unimportance to be the most revered and influential man in the country, through his ability to so completely capture the hopes and demands of the nation, and twist them to fit his own vision. He intrigued Near; By the end it was impossible to tell whether Lenin still truly did have the country's interests at heart, or if all his actions were to satisfy his own wishes and desires. So Near wrote twice the required amount and depth, and still finished before anyone else had.

Near looked down at his completed test, then back up at the clock. Only fifteen minutes of the two hours allowed had passed. After about five minutes bored and in pain, impatiently twirling a strand of white hair around his finger, -wishing he had a pack of cards or _something- _he decided he may as well check over his answers.

He read the test over twice. It was correct, of course. He inwardly sighed. The physical action would have caused his chest too much pain. Looking up at the clock he found that five more minutes had passed, then glanced around the room at the other children taking the test. Most of them were still writing, which was fair enough, as only 25 minutes had passed. Everyone would start finishing at about thirty to forty minutes in.

He glanced over his shoulder, but quickly looked back down at his paper. Mello had finished, too, and was swinging back in his seat, eyes roaming the room as he gnawed on a chocolate bar. He had smirked at Near when their eyes met. As if he knew something that Near did not. Of course, it didn't take too long for Near to find out.

The door slammed open, and eleven heads turned to look it's way.

Into the room strode Roger, face like a thundercloud. Near knew who he had come for. Knew before Roger even said a word. You didn't have to be a genius.

"Alias: Near." Roger dead-panned. Near struggled to his feet and stood beside his desk, his face set and resigned. With all that had happened in the last week, Near knew, deep down, that Roger could have come for no one else. What he didn't know yet, was why.

"Sir." he responded.

"You have been accused of theft of facility property,"

"..."

_...Theft?!_

At first there was shock and outrage. Then hate. Nothing but pure, seething hate for the old man.

As Near stood, frozen, a whisper went around the room. A malicious whisper. What, Near? The House's golden boy? The perpetual Number One who never does anything wrong? Steal? When he can get anything he wants just by clicking his fingers? What, did he get so big-headed and self-important that he thought he could get away with it? Who does he think he is?

_Who does he think he is??_

Near felt ten pairs of eyes on his back. Ten condemning pairs of eyes. He turned his own to look into Roger's, with a look in them that said _you will pay for this._

"I have been provided sufficient proof to support this claim, so you are asked to accompany me back to-"

"I didn't steal it, _sir."_ Near said, his voice low and full of venom. He hated Roger. "You gave it to me _yourself._" Roger who left him bleeding in the hallway. Roger who brings gifts, then accuses the theft of them. Who betrays and humiliates. Roger the hypocrite. At that moment, with every fibre of his being, Near truly hated Roger.

"We can discuss said evidence whilst we discuss your punishment. To my office. Now." Roger's voice was cold an uncompromising.

Still, as he watched the boy there was something about the burning look in the child's dark eyes, that deeply disturbed Roger.

xXx

The door slammed shut behind him and Near was left alone in Roger's sparse office. Left alone to wait. Near didn't move, but glared straight ahead, seeing nothing. He was so sick of waiting.

"What is the point of calling me here if you don't even have the time to come and punish me?" He demanded of the empty room, voice shaking in fury. His fists were clenched and shaking. Impatience. He began to search the room with his eyes, not entirely sure what he was looking for. There were quite a few pictures of old fashioned cars around the place, the most common one a shiny little red one, the front of which looked like some sort of bottom-dwelling fish. Roger's favourite car. Near's eyes ended up landing on a heavy black stapler, sitting on a shelf.

"..."

A hand hesitantly went to his hair.

Behind the heavy desk, in rows upon rows, stood the glass cases that housed Roger's dead insect collection. Near slowly shuffled towards the shelves, carefully picking the stapler up and turning it over in his hands; weighing it, a barely formed idea dancing around his mind.

"Roger? Are you there?" Suddenly a familiar, electric voice coursed through the room, interrupting Near's thoughts.

"!?" Near froze. He didn't even notice as his anger drained quickly away, replaced by a faint, numb shock.

He stood stock-still, his eyes flicking in the direction the sound had come from, searching. Then slowly- hesitantly; "...L?"

There! A little white mac-book with a big black L on the screen, sitting on a table by the window.

_Ha!_

Near couldn't help it.

A timid smile rose, quivering, to his lips. He felt like he might laugh. After all of that...

"Near?" the computer spoke, its tone a little perplexed. "What is Near doing in Roger's office?" the confusion in the computer's voice made him want to laugh all the more. How absurd was the situation he found himself in. He comes to Roger's office to face a punishment, and instead he finds L. Did the cosmos have a sense of humour after all? He had been so certain... "...Why does Near have a stapler?"

Near looked down at the stapler still in his hand, with a quiet "...Oh." He set the stapler on the desk carefully, then clasped his hands behind his back. He looked up innocently. "Just looking~"

"... I... see..."

He couldn't hold it in any more. A barely stifled snicker escaped his lips and he quickly covered his mouth, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. It was the only thing that made sense.

"Is... something the matter?" the computer asked him slowly. He had never heard a computer sound confused before, he had never even considered it possible. It was surreal, it was odd. It was fricking hilarious.

For Near, it was just too much.

The floodgates burst open and he sank to the floor, laughter finally finding a voice. He didn't even care about the pain that shot through with every breath as he clutched his sides, he was too lost to the absurdity."Yes!" he choked through the gasps and hiccups, tears of hysteria forming at the corners of his eyes.

Yes a lot was the matter. So much was the matter it made Near want to scream. He didn't scream.

He laughed instead. It was the only thing that made sense.

"Yes..." he gasped, quieter now, his shoulders still shaking uncontrollably. His vision blurred as more tears filled up his eyes and his gasps became sobs. So much was the matter.

Soon he wasn't even laughing any more, but was on his hands and knees, eyes screwed shut and teeth gritted, sobbing like the world had died. The world he knew had died. He sobbed and sobbed and beat his fists into the ground in rage and pain and frustration. So much was wrong. It was all wrong. It made no sense! Nothing made sense!!

The discreet camera above the bookshelf just looked on, in mute awe, until the sobs slowly died down. The boy just sat silently then, looking at his white knees with deadened eyes.

"No." He said quietly, his white fringe falling to hide his eyes from view. "Nothing is the matter." He already regretted his outburst in front of L. It had made him seem weak. He wasn't weak. He would work this out on his own. All notion he had before of getting L to speak on behalf of him was gone now. He wasn't going to run to L, no matter how much the frightened child inside him wanted too. What would be gained from running to L anyway? Certainly not L's respect.

And L's respect was too rare and too precious to discard so easily.

"...Near? Are- you alright?" the computer sounded kind of concerned. An impressive feat, for a machine.

"Of course." The boy looked up, his eyes clear now. There was no trace of pain or anger any more. All that could be seen in them now was a shy cheerfulness. The change was so drastic it was disturbing. "I just thought it was a little funny I ran into you here, because the laptop you gave me got broken on the way back from the hospital and I had been wondering how I was going to be able to contact you again. That's the reason I'm in Roger's office, too, if you wanted to know. I'm waiting for him to come and punish me for breaking the computer."

It scared Near a little, how naturally the lies came. How they felt like the truth. For a very brief moment he wondered if that was how Lenin felt, as he promised freedom and peace to the masses. The thought was unimportant though, so he shrugged it off.

He tried a smile then; a sweet, almost honest smile.

"...I see...." L didn't sound convinced, but he let the matter drop, for which Near was grateful. Then L sighed. "In that case I will try to fix this problem as soon as I can. I will warn you that it may take a while, because at the moment the Kira case is quite busy and I am currently heavily occupied with trying to stay alive, so-"

"Your- life is in danger?" It had been like a slap in the face.

With one, quiet sentence L had managed to suck all the importance out of all of the past week's events, rendering them meaningless. Petty, even.

Near's throat closed over with shame. Then he felt a sinking in his stomach. A despair the equal of which he had never felt. Not when Mello had turned on him, not when Roger had abandoned him, not when Matt had ignored his plea for help. He didn't fully understand why he felt this way, but he did know that if L was gone too...

"They want me to show my face on live international television." the computer eventually explained.

"That's stupid." Near blurted out, finding his voice again.

As a code of procedure the Wammy's orphans weren't given details to the cases L was working on, but Near had managed to piece together a vague picture from snatches of conversations he'd overheard and, of course, what he'd seen on the news. Something he did know was that Kira needed a face in order to kill.

"I mean- That would just be offering yourself to Kira. It would accomplish nothing. It definitely wouldn't stop the killings." He looked up at the computer, his eyes wide and serious, his voice grave. "Don't do that." he ordered.

"I have no intention of appearing on television. Or dying, either, any time soon." L replied. Near sat back on his heels again, relaxing slightly. "So you don't need to worry so much." there was something like amusement in it's tone, and Near frowned, a little pink rising to his cheeks.

L had a point... Why did he care if L died or not? He wasn't sure. He didn't know L well, it wasn't like they were close. Near only knew him as a letter on a computer screen, and a disembodied voice that sounded like electricity. Hell, he'd only had one proper conversation with L his entire life. So what in God's name had L done to matter so much?

Then it dawned.

_He is all I have now._

The realisation hit hard, and it brought tears to his eyes, which just stayed there, unshed. He was still too proud to let them go.

"I don't want you to die." Near said, quietly. Earnestly.

Mello, who had always been his friend, now hated him. Matt who had always cared and looked out for him didn't give a shit any more. All the kids in the orphanage who had once looked up to him, now believed he was a liar and a thief. All the adults in his life, who were supposed to support him, keep him safe, look after him... They all saw him only as a nuisance. A burden.

Except L.

L, who treated him like an equal. L, who didn't have to talk to him but did. Who didn't have to have anything to do with him, but wanted to. Who didn't have to be kind to him, but was. L, who was the last person left. And even if he was nothing but a picture on a computer screen, Near would _not_ give him up.

"...you know, you might be the only one." L eventually remarked, quietly, not realising he was echoing Near own thoughts.

There was a long, solemn silence.

"Then catch him for _me_." Near commanded quietly, his eyes hardening, looking up- directly into the camera above the shelves. There was a short silence, and then;

"Oh, I will do _so_ much more than that." L assured him darkly. "I will _break_ him. I will find him and expose him. I will tear him to shreds and then humiliate him until he begs for mercy like the cowardly animal he is. Then I will make him watch as I cut out his heart, and I will laugh at his horror."

"..."

"...I'm sorry that was probably a little extreme."

Near simply sat dumbstruck, looking at the screen with eyes wide and lips parted in awe.

"No." he said jerking out of it, "No, I understand how you feel." A devilish smile appeared on his lips. He _liked _this side of L. "You think he deserves that?"

"I don't know if its a question of what he deserves, more what would satisfy me."

"I see." the smile played about Near's lips as L reinforced the theory Near had formulated the first time they had "met". L didn't care about justice. He (like Lenin, Near noted with a smile) did what he did to fulfil his own wishes and satisfy his own whims. Not for anyone else's ideals or views. The position of leadership he held just served that purpose.

"You know, Near, people talk about the difference between justice and vengeance... but in all my experience I have never found it."

"..." Near thought about that long and hard. It made sense...

"And while we're on the subject, I'd also say, if you were quick enough, you would probably be able to put that stapler through every cabinet and maybe even the window in the approximate 20 seconds it will take for Roger to arrive back here."

"..."

"I wish you luck. Goodbye Near."

"Hey-" Click. Near looked for a moment blankly at the black screen. Then down at the stapler sitting innocently on the desk. He could hear footsteps, echoing down the hall.

Slowly, a hand went to his hair and a smile rose to his lips.

~approximately 20 seconds later~

Roger's face changed colour many times after he opened the door and saw the carnage before him. First it went ashen, then violet and finally settled on an angry scarlet. Shards of glass and splinters of wood and dead bugs littered the floor, and in the midst of it all, sitting on Roger's own chair, behind Roger's own desk was Near, twirling a strand of hair between his fingers contentedly, as if waiting for Roger to arrive.

"Can I help you?" the boy dead-panned, pushing off the desk with his foot so that the chair spun around in a circle, making a 'zoooom' sound under his breath. He seemed to mock Roger, even as he sat in the destruction the man's most precious possessions.

"What is the _meaning _of this??" Roger managed to choke. Near stopped his spinning to look the old man dead in the eye.

"Pre-emptive Justice."

xXx

L smiled at the little boy's declaration as he continued to watch the screen, but Watari's lips tightened in disapproval.

"Well, it certainly appears you are making an impression on him." he muttered.

"Yes, overall the plan is going quite well." L replied, popping a cherry into his mouth. Watari shot him a dirty look.

"Roger had spent his whole life acquiring those." Watari said, as he looked at the wreckage on the screen.

"What a pathetic hobby." L remarked, taking secret delight at the expression on Watari's face. The conversation had been made all the more amusing by having Watari standing there, watching but unable to speak.

"Roger did nothing to deserve this." the old man continued, voice shaking.

"Of course he did. He accused Near of a crime that Near did not commit."

"At _your_ orders!"

"Oh, yes, I forgot." It took a lot of effort not to smirk. He picked another plump red cherry from the bowl.

"Well are you happy yet?" Watari demanded angrily through gritted teeth. "Is he sufficiently twisted enough to suit you? From his outburst earlier we've established that the boy is nearing mental breakdown and the very fabric of his _sanity_ is fragile." L sat in patient silence, but Watari was nowhere near finished. "He's lapped up the morally questionable ideas you've planted in his head, and now he has shown he is quite prepared to lash out physically as well. So my question remains are you finished playing with your toy, or is there some other way in which you can warp him?"

"Please calm yourself, Watari, you are beginning to sound like Yagami-san, and anger doesn't suit you like it suits him."

"...You really are nothing more than a selfish child." Watari murmured, and L's face turned stony; but he did not accept it or deny it. "You won't be happy until he breaks, will you. Until he snaps under the pressure loses his mind completely and becomes some rabid animal that hisses and spits whenever someone draws too near. Or else just becomes a heartless, soulless shell without any feeling at all-"

"I would prefer-" L began sharply, his voice raised to cut off Watari's rant. "If you were to stop referring to Near as if he were weak." he turned to look the old man in the eye and spoke slowly and clearly, so as not to be misunderstood. "Near is _not_ weak. And he is not _stupid_, either. In fact, there is a 20% chance that he is every bit as capable of solving this mystery as I am."

"Then why in God's name are you torturing the child like this?" Watari asked weakly.

L was silent, chewing moodily on the end of a cherry stalk. "He is still missing... important things. Things he won't be able to survive as L without."

"Like a violent hate and distrust for mankind in general?" Watari's voice was bitter.

"..."

Watari sighed, regretting his words already. "L..." he began.

"No, its perfectly alright Watari. You're completely correct, as usual." he turned up the volume on the monitor that displayed Roger and the boy. Near had been wrenched from the seat and now stood in front of the desk, arms folded as he was delivered his punishment. They both watched in silence, as Roger proceeded to drag him from the room.

"He'll never be able to do that, L. Not in his condition." the old man said, on the punishment that Roger had just given Near.

"I know. That's exactly why I decided on that particular one." L selected another cherry. "It forces him to work out another method of completing it. Work out another method or kill himself attempting to do it alone."

"And if he does kill himself?" Watari demanded. L shrugged.

"Then he is obviously not smart enough to become the next L." Watari opened his mouth to reply but nothing came to mind. The harshness of L's words had shocked him.

"I wouldn't get too concerned this early on into the operation Watari." L continued, turning in his seat, fixing Watari with a fathomless stare and the ghost of a smile. "The worst is still yet to come."

Watari's shoulders fell in resignation and dejection.

"When will you be satisfied, L?"

"He will be ready when he has nothing to lose."

Watari thought of the conversation with Near, of the way the boy had looked so reverently into the camera, devotion so clear. Watari had been watching L then; he had thought he'd seen a flash of something in the young man's eyes. Some unidentifiable emotion when Near had ordered L to catch Kira, but for him. Now, however, in the face of L's usual cold exterior, Watari questioned his memory. Perhaps he had only been seeing what he wanted to see, but still, the fact remained.

"...He still has you." Watari said, quietly.

"And we will take that from him too, when the time is right."

_________________

**A/N: ...Okay...I apologise... L is being a complete b*tch at the end of this chapter... poor Watari.... My excuse is that L being a bitch is waaaaaay too much fun to write. He's so good at it, too! ^^ And I DID warn you that everyone would be reaching their full evil potential in this story. Or at least close to. Even Near! *giggles* (but I shan't spoil that, there is more to come)**

**But honestly, I did want to slap him at points...and then I wanted to slap Watari for being mean to him. Did you want to slap L? Maybe Watari? Or Near, even? Let me know! ;)**

**You ask me "Why 20%?" I say "Its just the first percentage I thought of. And whenever L states a percentage he generally makes it up anyway OR SO I HEARD... Nah, its true. Its Word of God. Obha says so!! Apparently whenever L says a percentage he is generally totally sure of what he is saying. Just lacks evidence to back it up. So...yeah. I'll be going now, but first, a big shout out to all who reviewed the last chapter! You guys are made of awesome. Hope this one lived up to expectations.**

**Anywho, stay tuned! After all, L says: "The worst is still yet to come" and as we all know, L is never wrong ^^.**

**Adios! ~CANDY  
**


	6. Tools and Toys

**A/N: Prepare, my friends, for the ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny! ... kinda... **

**Chapter 6: Tools and Toys**

**____________  
**

Rodger had dragged Near out the front of the orphanage, to where their two industrial sized dumpsters stood, and left him there to fend for himself. Near looked up in hopelessness at the dumpsters, which loomed over him, twice his height, threatening and ominous.

"_You are to move these undercover and out of sight before they are rained upon._" Roger had said. "_This is in addition to the confiscation of any games or other such equipment in your possession._"

At first, Near had been more upset over the fact that they were taking away his toys. But now, as he grimly looked up at the colossi of waste disposal before him, he decided that this, definitely, was the harsher of the two punishments. He estimated that they both weighed at least twice as much as any truck of the same size. He inwardly sighed, hand going to a lock of his hair as he examined the bases of them. They had no wheels.

… _This is impossible._

People started to gather around the dumpsters within about ten minutes of Near's punishment being decided. Occasions for schadenfreude like this were rare at Wammy's and no one wanted to miss out on seeing it. Especially seeing as it was the feared and revered Number One who had it coming to him this time.

They tried to stay out of Near's sight for the most part, or at least appear as if they were doing something else. Some hid behind the corner of the building or peeped from behind curtains in the windows, while others half-heartedly kicked around a soccer ball, all the while keeping one surreptitious eye on the boy in white.

Some of the younger ones didn't even bother to hide their intentions, but just sat on the grass a short distance away and watched, steadily munching on the apples they had brought for lunch, wide-eyed and intent on him.

Near looked balefully back at them for a few moments, postponing that inevitable fist push for as long as he could. One of the braver ones waved to him. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and turned back to the dumpsters. To his disappointment, they hadn't grown any smaller since the last time he had looked.

He glanced two hundred meters down the driveway, past the gates he had tried to climb, down at the make-shift shelter of corrugated iron and wooden beams that he was to move the dumpsters to. His heart sank all the more.

The air was electric from a sudden drop in the pressure and the wind held its breath- like it too, was waiting to see what he would do. Meanwhile black-bellied clouds were rolling in silently and ominously. Quickly. Near had read books on meteorology.

He knew he only had until the storm hit.

The first push was half hearted; only really to see if the dumpsters were as heavy as he imagined them to be. They were. _This is the job of five full grown men, not one twelve year old, _he thought bitterly. Still, gritting his teeth in determination- he would _not _give Roger the satisfaction of seeing him give up- he rolled up his sleeves and braced himself for a push with all of his strength. He gasped as a knife of pain shot through his rib in protest and immediately let go, stumbling but catching himself before he fell all the way over. The dumpster still hadn't budged. One of the apple eaters stifled a giggle. Scowling, Near straightened again.

He glanced about him for some inspiration. He needed an alternate solution to this and his first inclination was to build something. Build something that would help him move the dumpster from A to B. All he could see around him was the one big oak tree, a shiny silver sedan- Roger's work car- a ladder outside one window (Near briefly wondered what it was there for) and the soccer ball some of his watchers played with. _Not much of an arsenal... _

He was jerked from his thoughts as an indignant voice drifted in from behind him.

"...ancestors had intended us to live _outside_ they wouldn't have _invented_ an inside, so why are you dishonouring them by dragging m- … Oh..."

Mello and Matt. Of course. Mello had Matt by the hand and was dragging him down the orphanage's front steps towards where the younger kids all sat on the grass. He sat himself down amongst them.

They all looked at him with expressions of pure terror on their faces, but he failed to notice, pulling a bar of chocolate out of his pocket. While Mello, the Number Two was perhaps a little less revered than the Number One, he was most certainly feared at least four times as much. His loud, aggressive, quick-to-anger nature ensured that. Most of the kids around the House generally stayed out of his way so, usually, he'd leave them alone.

He took a loud bite of the chocolate bar as Matt sat down next to him, attempting a friendly smile to the terrified children sitting around them.

"...Hi." he apologised to them, hesitantly slouching down so as to share his DS with the littlest, Pepe, who tentatively shuffled a little closer, glassy brown eyes fixed avidly on the screen.

"What are you doing here?" Near demanded, his voice low and expressionless.

"Isn't it obvious? We're here to enjoy the show just like everyone else." Mello gestured to the soccer-players behind him, who promptly began to play soccer again, looking very busy.

"You..." Near's face was fathomless, but his clenched fists were beginning to shake. "You _filthy_, _lying_ _**pathetic**_ excuse for a-" in a few short steps he had crossed the short space between them and landed a hard blow to Mello's face.

"Whoa!" Mello exclaimed, reeling backwards in surprise, eyes watering. One of the girls sitting next to Mello yelped in fear. Matt sprang to his feet- too fast for Near- and after shoving his DS into the hands of a surprised Pepe, pinned Nears arm's behind his back, lifting him partly from the ground. All Near could do then was kick feebly at Matt's shins whilst hurling venom at him for following Mello in everything like some pathetic slobbering little puppy-

"Looks like the Snowbunny grew fangs." Mello laughed, pinching the bridge of his nose a little to clear his eyes. Near could see Matt out of the corner of his eye, grinning at the remark. He wanted to vomit. Then all the more, when Mello punched him hard in the stomach, thankfully missing his broken rib. Not that it didn't still cause a lot more pain than Near welcomed.

The kids who had been playing soccer stopped now, and the ones behind the window and the wall came out to gather and crowd around the trio. While they might have thought twice about showing their intentions before, a fight was fair game. About twenty or so kids now stood around and watched in morbid interest.

Mello leaned in so his lips were at Near's ear.

"But I'm still stronger than you are." he whispered. At a nod from Mello, Matt dropped Near to the ground, where the boy lay gasping for air. Slipping his hands into his pockets, Mello made to leave Near there, but a few quiet words made him stop in his tracks.

"Well at least I'm still _smarter_." Near was pulling himself to his feet, fingering his rib gingerly. Some of the spectators made appreciative "Ohh snap"s. Everyone in the entire orphanage knew Mello's sore spot. And no one _ever _brought it up.

No one except Near, it seemed.

Mello turned around slowly. His expression looked as if Near had just hurled dog shit at the back of his head.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Mello looked into Near's unnaturally black eyes and found Death staring out at him from underneath tangled white bangs. A look that promised Mello a lifetime of vengeful antagonism and vindictive hatred. A shiver went unbidden up the blond's spine.

And then Near spoke, his voice quiet and condemning.

"And at least I'm not a coward. A pathetic, snivelling weakling who'll run and cry to Roger with some half-assed story to get my _friend_ into trouble because I'm not man enough to suck it up and just accept the fact that I am _not_ and _will never be_ Number One. Especially when that story is a lie in the first place."

To everyone's surprise, Mello smirked at the words. "You got me," he sighed, throwing up his hands in mock defeat. "It's all that damn inferiority complex of mine." his eyes glittered with a malicious irony but no one saw, they were too intent on the vehement disgust that filled Near's.

"You_ sicken me._" the boy's simple words brought a change across Mello. His eyes turned dark.

"I'm not the one you should be judging." he said quietly.

"Well, I have best cause of anyone here." Near replied. "Who else will if I don't? Not any of the scared and angry kids here that you threaten and blackmail into respect and submission. We're not in second grade, Mello. You don't make people love you by pulling their pigtails. And you _didn't_ make me respect you by breaking my rib and beating me unconscious." The collective group held it's breath. No one talked down to Mello. Ever.

...Right?

"Quit while you're ahead Near. I'm not feeling patient today." Mello made to turn away.

"I don't see why I should. I don't see why I shouldn't give you the chance to beat up on a kid half your size so you can give your pathetic little ego a boost. You didn't care last time-"

The scream that tore from Near's lips as Mello's boot crashed into his rib made every child present cringe away.

"I told you to shut up." Mello informed the shuddering white heap on the ground. The circle of people held it's breath as Near, shaking, began to rise yet again to his feet. The look with which he fixed Mello was a look of damnation.

"You're just proving my point." he said breathlessly, body shaking. "Not that I actually expected you to act like a _fundamentally good person_, but there was still a chance tha-"

Mello was on Near then, attacking him with a crazed look in his eyes that chilled everyone who saw it to the bone. A girl screamed.

"STOP SOUNDING LIKE _**HIM**_!" Thud. "YOU THINK YOU'RE SO _GREAT_ DON'T YOU!" Smack, thud. "SO _**RIGHTEOUS**__!" Crunch_._ "_YOU'RE NO BETTER THAN ANYONE **ELSE**! YOU'RE NO BETTER THAN **ME**!" Thud. Smack. Drip, drip, drip. "YOURE JUST AS MUCH A **TOOL** AS THE REST OF US!..You're..-" A soft thud. Ragged breathing."A tool... like- me..."

Near laughed a quiet little laugh that only Mello would be able to hear. "So Mello _is_ still sore that L likes me better?"

_**CRUNCH. **_

Near screamed in an agony that terrified all of those who watched him. A scream that went on far too long.

"_Mello __**stop it**__!" _The cry came from Linda, who stood just in front of the closest people, held from the action only by a grim-faced Matt.

Linda who wore pigtails, Near vaguely recalled, as his ragged breathing slowed. Linda who sometimes said Hello, who was always drawing. Right now she had her fists balled, tears in her eyes as she looked desperately at the blond fifteen-year-old.

Tears in her eyes? … that was odd... Near closed his eyes and rested his head against the cold dirt driveway, trying to clear his thoughts.

Mello stood slowly, staring at the bruised and bloodied boy on the ground. After a moment he turned and started walking away.

"So sore..."

Mello's blond head whipped around, eyes widening in shock. Near was on his feet, hand clutched to his chest, eyes burning out from underneath his bloodied white curls. There was an appreciative thrum from the crowd, now almost twice as large as it had been before the fight had started. A few even called out encouragement.

Near looked in mild surprise at them, all their faces focused intensely on his own. As he looked into them he realised what he had done. Mello was universally feared and obeyed in the orphanage that was their world. No one had challenged that before... A small, devilish smile rose to his lips as it all clicked into place. He had unwittingly become their champion. An idea took shape in his mind.

_This is perfect..._

"Aren't you, Mello." he finished, turning to Mello, who looked at him in a mixture of shock and incredulity. Then Mello smiled, shaking his head in wonder.

"You're making this a _whole_ lot worse for yourself." he said. Near smiled disdainfully, lifting his palms in resignation. In beckoning.

"You don't scare me, Mello." he said.

"Near, _No!" _the desperate cry came from Linda, "You'll just get more hurt!" but her words were lost in the chorus of encouragement from rest of the crowd. There was even a cheer.

Near made no sound this time, as Mello ripped into him. He stayed silent and took each blow as it came. With each punch that fell on Near, the crowd cheered, as if each punch was one punch he was suffering for them.

But when Mello finished the crowd fell silent too. Near was not moving. He lay still and silent, his blood staining the dirt he lay on. Even as Mello stood and turned away, Near didn't move. None in the crowd moved either, even as Mello walked away up the path and Matt, after a moment's hesitation, reluctantly followed him.

Then there was a rustle of movement from within the cluster of people, and out stepped one of the younger kids who had been sitting next to Mello on the grass. The girl who had screamed. She slowly walked to where Near lay on the ground as all eyes followed her intently. She was silent for a moment. Then;

"Get up." she ordered, her big blue eyes reproachful. Near didn't move. There was not even one sound from the crowd as they watched.

She leant over him imperiously, so that her curly chocolate hair brushed his face.

"Get up now." He didn't move. She narrowed her eyes. "or I won't give you my apple." she threatened. Someone watching laughed nervously at the comment.

"Well..." it was barely more than a whisper, what came from his white lips, "I really... can't miss out on that..." he somehow managed to raise himself onto his elbows, and she smiled approvingly, sitting next to him and handing him the apple.

_Blue eyes, brown hair, bossy, annoying... second at Languages. Always following around Pepe and talking to him in Spanish as if everyone can't tell what she's saying... Something Blair... Ellie? Ellen? Helen?Hannah..._

"Gracias, Hannah." he said softly, opening his eyes and smiling at her. She positively glowed. As if his smile had jerked her to her senses, Linda bolted to the two of them.

"Near? Are you okay? Can you feel your fingers?" she was talking in a long stream, as she always did when she was nervous. It was annoying, so he cut through.

"I'm okay, Linda" he assured her, sitting up further. The throbbing in his chest was getting a little easier to ignore. "Really. Calm down."

A blush rose to her cheeks and she fell silent. _Linda... The number one at Vis. Arts. Says she thinks of drawing as a kind of maths equation that has it's own formula. Something about the golden ratio. Wasn't paying much attention; she talks too much. Nervous and stuttering. Pretty. Shy. Insecure. The object of many boys' interests but never seems to be interested in return. Always seems to be around. Always says Hello. Always blushes when- _

_... O__**h**__ ..._

A couple more people had started to gather around them now, praising him and joking with each other, reliving the "fight" over and over in their words. Most went back up the steps towards the orphanage chatting amongst themselves, but a few stayed around him, also talking animatedly and excitedly.

Near watched them all, slightly bemused. Only a little while ago these people had been content to watch him suffer as he- "!"

A drop of rain fell on his cheek and he looked at the sky in horror. The dumpsters! He ignored protests and questions of the people around him and struggled to his feet, biting back a cry as agony seared through him when he moved. The apple he had been holding fell to the ground.

"Hey, what're you doing?" a tough-looking redhead asked. _Brendan. 14 yrs. Mechanical Engineering. Designed something impressive enough to be accepted here, but hasn't designed anything of interest since. They are thinking of throwing him out. Boring. Acne problem. Blinks too much. _

"Oh!" exclaimed a pretty, straight-haired Asian girl. _Rei.13 yrs. First in music. Can play every instrument in an orchestra. Also thinks she can sing. Am often kept up at night by her practising. Accomplished, but also very loud. Aggressive and confrontational. Have not complained about practising. _"The dumpsters! You have to move them undercover before it rains don't you!" Near didn't even bother asking how the hell she knew about that. This was Wammy's, after all.

"Its going to storm in a couple of minutes," added 11 year old Simòn in his thick Jamaican accent. _Third in both physics and chemistry. Often attempts to persuade to people the existence of UFOs. Takes theatre for breadth. Good liar. Suspect he is a scientologist... Freak. _

He ignored them, and moved to where the first dumpster stood. He closed his eyes and pushed at it feebly. Then he almost cried out.

It moved.

Startled, he looked to his right. Next to him, with both hands on the side of dumpster stood 6-year-old Pepe, an intense look on his face. For a few moments Near just stared at Pepe in numb shock. _Pepe Jacobin. 6 yrs. First in Languages. Fluent in ten. Passable in over twenty. Apparently also has super-strength. Go figure. _

A chorus of laughter rose up around him and he looked around him, meeting the eyes of five other people, all of them pushing the dumpster alongside him. Brendan and Simòn were collapsed on themselves, in fits of hysteria that Near actually thought it had been Pepe.

"You honestly thought that we'd let you do this by yourself? In the _state_ you're in? Really now." Rei's tone was condescending, but there was laughter in her eyes.

"You'd just hurt yourself more," added Linda, blushing. _How did I not notice?? It's so __**obvious**_**... **

Then;_ Pepe, Hannah, Linda, Brendan, Sim__ò__n and Rei... Seven pairs of hands... Two dumpsters... _

_This is going to be easy. _

For the first time in what felt like a life-time, Near smiled an honest smile.

The first dumpster took a while to push down the hill, and by the end of it all of them were panting heavily, not the least Near, who's eyes were watering from the pain. Still, he couldn't help but smile a little, at the laughing, joking people around him. He nodded when a flushed Linda asked him if he was alright and shook his head when Simòn suggested maybe he should at least sit down for a little while.

By the time they had got to the next dumpster it had begun to rain heavily, and the driveway had become muddy and slippery. They started to push it down the hill but after a few moments it gained momentum and began to slide down without any effort on their part. At that moment, Brendan leapt up, onto the dumpster, pulling Pepe up with him, and they rode it down the hill like a go-kart, as the others ran behind, laughing and calling out.

Near ran with them, ignoring the pain in his rib. So this was what it felt like, to be a part of a group. It was nice enough, and yet, he knew he wasn't really one of them. He was still an outsider looking in. He knew he wasn't like these people- not at all. He and they had next to nothing in common. But as they pulled the last dumpster under the shelter, letting out whoops of triumph and running in the mud and rain, he let himself enjoy it.

Thunder pulsed through the damp earth they stood on. Simòn and Brendan were congratulating themselves, and then Near, too. Rei planted a kiss on his cheek, which left him numbly surprised. Pepe and Hannah dished out hi5s. Something about their smiling faces brought with it a warm kind of feeling so alien... but Near let himself enjoy it.

For a little while.

xXx

By the time they all headed back to Wammy's together, the feeling had worn off, and Near felt himself stop caring. Had he, even, to begin with? He pondered this thought as they walked together, as Rei and Simòn clapped and sang some foreign song they had learned recently in Music: Advanced.

Had he cared about them? Even just for a moment? He wasn't too sure. If that _was_ what caring about someone was like, he didn't know why so many people found it so important. He had actually found it rather anticlimactic. Nothing so special as to spend a whole life striving for.

A hand went to his hair. And yet he was so sure he had cared about Mello... but that hadn't lasted either... It seemed that all along Mello had hated him anyway, and if there was one thing Near had learned in the very few works of fiction he had read, love had to be mutual, or it was as good as dead anyway. Eventually he came to the conclusion that it hadn't been as real as he had thought at the time. Anything that was broken so easily couldn't have been.

No. He didn't care about _anyone_ anymore. He took a moment to examine how he felt about that, and after a while decided it wasn't so bad. After all, it wasn't as if friendship accomplished some purpose that couldn't be accomplished by some other means. And it could lead to all sorts of disasters, like betrayal, or blackmail. No, it was far more trouble than it was worth, Near decided.

Besides, unhindered by other people's wishes, he would be able to do whatever he wanted. He would be able to fulfil his _own _ideals and desires, and not have to take others into account. _Just like Lenin.._. Near thought, _Or L..._ What was it Mello had said earlier? Tools. L used people as tools.

Mello was stupid. People weren't like tools. They're too unpredictable, too erratic. Much too complicated and unreliable.

No. People were much more like toys.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Near was jerked from his musings by a high-pitched voice and wide blue eyes. Hannah stared up at him, and he noticed now her hand tightly held his own. _How annoying..._

He hesitated a moment, then smiled again, a small, odd smile.

"I'm just happy you're here." he said, which wasn't a complete lie. She beamed.

He knew wasn't one of them truly, but they thought he was, and he wasn't going to correct them of the fact. Why would he? When they had proven to be so helpful? Besides, he had no other toys to play with right now. Roger had confiscated them all.

They laughed and smiled as they crossed the threshold, and Near smiled with them. But his smile was directed towards the discreet camera above a painting. His was a smile that said. "_Look at my __new__ toys, Roger. Aren't they cool_?"

* * *

**A/N: Now I know what you're thinking. Near??? Friends??? Ha! It'll never last!**

**My answer? Yeeeeeeeaaaaaaah. *shifty eyes* But really, I have not finished causing this boy pain. Not by a long shot. **

**And to all of you going "NEAR AND LINDA??? WHAAAAT???" Fear not, she _does_ have a crush on him in my version of events, and yes, he _is_ now aware of it, but being Near, he finds it difficult to feel anything more than disdain towards his fellow human beings. Except Mello, once upon a time, but I figure he's completely stopped thinking of Mello as a once-friend by now. Good God, he has enough reason to...**

**The whole reason behind Near thinking nasty things in his head about all the new characters is that I wanted to portray just how much _contempt_ he holds them all in (and they kinda needed to be introduced. 2 birds with one stone, so to speak). Plus, I don't really like them either *guilty look*, being OCs and all, but they're necessary for the plot. Oh well, at least I get to have my fun with them later *Slasher smile* but I shant give that away yet. You'll have to wait and see. ^^**

**Oh! and for anyone who cares, the song Rei and Simon are singing (in MY mind- In yours it could be something different ^^) is "Sham Rang Bar Do" by A R Rahman from the soundtrack to the movie "Water" . I dunno, it kinda seemed to fit the feeling of that moment. **

**Anywho, that's all from me for the present. So long my pretties!! *cackles* and thanks for all the fish!! ^_~  
**

**~CANDY**


	7. Power Games

**Chapter 7: Power Games**

**1: 28 AM**

The Orphanage was totally quiet. Near was laying in bed, counting the seconds. His heart was racing. It was almost time. Only a minute or two left...

After half a minute more he decided he couldn't wait any longer. He threw off his covers and got out of bed, beginning to pace the room. He stopped when he passed in front of the mirror and stared at himself for a moment. His face was flushed, his eyes wide and bright. _Calm __**down**__._ In the mirror his blinking red alarm clock was glowing 1:30 AM. _Finally._

He bolted to the door, where he slipped on a pair of boots as quietly as he could. They felt far too heavy as he stood, and he looked at them distastefully, but knew he couldn't go without them tonight. He shuffled over to the bed and slid his hand beneath it, withdrawing a canvas bag. Plastic would have been too loud. He checked inside it one last time to make sure all the contents were present, and smiled. He silently swung the door open.

The hallways were completely silent. Completely dark. If someone had been there to see Near creep along them, they may have thought they saw a ghost, a white outline flitting by in the darkness in complete silence. Near heard nothing but the soft padding of his feet and the loud thumping of his heart.

He reached the door this time, and winced as it creaked open. He stood frozen, ears pricked to see if the noise had roused someone.

Complete silence.

Smirking he slipped through the gap and slunk across the grass to the old oak tree, hiding himself in its deep black shadows. Then he sat down to wait, his inky eyes fixed on the front door he had come from. _Not too much longer now..._

xXx

Over the past few weeks life had been strange for Near. It seemed that whenever he turned around there was someone there. He would lay out a puzzle and soon would find Pepe and Linda helping him piece it together. Linda was good at puzzles, Near discovered. Not as good as him of course, but proficient enough that her assistance actually made a difference. She blushed when he made note of the fact.

Pepe's skills, however, were tragic, and Near sometimes found himself just wishing the six year old would go away. Pepe redeemed himself in Nears eyes, though, when one day Matt appeared to reclaim his DS, and Pepe unhelpfully declared that he had lost it. After Matt had left, swearing and muttering, Pepe reached behind a cushion and withdrew the little device. He then handed it to Near, a proud smile on his face. Near had taken the machine with a small, mysterious smile of his own.

Matt found it a few days later in a toilet bowl, in pieces.

Usually though, Near did his best to try to avoid his new 'friends'. He went to great lengths sometimes, at first often hiding in his room. However it didn't take Hannah too long to find him there (which irritated Near to no end), and once she knew so did everyone else. He tried many other places in his attempts to escape the human contact that- in his opinion- he was being smothered with of late. He hung out in the clock tower, or a locked toilet cubicle, or even the cool-room of the kitchen once. That endeavour proved to be less than successful, however, so he reluctantly gave up soon enough. He consoled himself that at least they'd get bored of him eventually and start leaving him alone. However, on occasions, even Near had to admit there were perks to the situation.

For instance, he couldn't help but enjoy Matt and Mello's reactions to his new companions. Mello, especially, greeted the new developments with extreme displeasure. He began to refer to them as Near's 'Fanclub'. Brendan and Simòn, were the ones who took the most offence to their new title. They knew better than to speak out against Mello, however.

Mello was not the most forgiving of people and the only person who had bested him- Near- They were unsure cared enough about them to come to their aid. He did seem to be avoiding them more than usual lately... So they said nothing, and simply seethed in silence, while Mello also seethed in silence about the new developments and Matt seethed about his DS. Near seemed to be the only one out of them relatively content with the situation, actually.

Soon, however, the limited amount of toys that the others were able to borrow him no longer interested him, and he wanted his own back. When he briefly mentioned this fact to Hannah in a rare moment of verbal communication, Rei and Simòn somehow suddenly knew. Before Near could fully comprehend what had happened they were standing in Roger's office, Near slightly behind them; their arms folded and scowling defiantly.

Roger was unimpressed and unmoved by their words. Near found himself (not for the first time that week) wishing he could just disappear. The way Rei and Simòn handled the situation was so childish, so...well...unimpressive. Roger sighed.

"I believe... I stated that in addition to the confiscation of the toys, Near was to move the two dumpsters into the shelter before the storm hit." Roger informed them quietly, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

"And he did!" Rei declared. Near gritted his teeth. She really didn't know how adults worked, did she. Roger had been waiting for that... Near was proven right.

"For one of the dumpsters. The other had an inch or so of water in the bottom when I inspected it. Near was far too busy having a petty scuffle to do as he was instructed, and now I have a water-logged dumpster on my hands. He did not pull _his _weight- did not live up to _his _word. So why should I live up to _mine_?" Roger's glasses flashed in the fluorescent light. Once again Near felt fury and hatred bubbling up inside of him. He wanted to leap at Roger- claw at his eyes, tear at his face- but he didn't. Instead he forced his gaze away; at the picture that sat (still cracked, Near noted) upon Roger's desk.

An idea struck him then, a brilliant idea that he had heard once before, issuing from some unseen speakers in a voice that sounded like electricity. _"People talk about the difference between justice and vengeance, but I have never found it... I don't know if its a question of what he deserves, more what would satisfy me..." _

Near looked up from the photograph of the shiny red car... _Roger's favourite toy..._ He looked up into Roger's light brown eyes and smiled coldly.

"I understand. Sorry for bothering you."

Near ignored the looks of '_What the hell? What are you doing?'_ That Rei and Simòn threw in his direction and turned on his heel, exiting the room with a soft click of the door. He walked quickly down the hallway, ignoring the sullen throbbing of his abused ribcage. Rei and Simon did not take long to fall into step with him.

"Hey, what the hell were you doing back there?"

"Come _on _Near, don't you _want_ your stuff back?"

"How could you have just taken it lying down like that?"

"Would you two please shut up?" Near cut in lightly, and they stopped their barrage and looked at him, a little bit shocked. Though he had been attempting to avoid them and the others all week, he had never been openly rude to them before. "I _do_ know what I'm doing." On his face was a little smirk. A devilish little smile that sent a shiver down their spines.

"What are you thinking in that crazy brain of yours, Near?" Simòn asked warily. But as Near quietly told them, that same grin that he wore slowly appeared on both their faces.

xXx

"I'm worried, L." Back in the room Roger was still in his chair, but now a little white macbook sat open upon his desk. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, which he wiped away with his sleeve. "He's up to something, I know it. I swear I'm not being paranoid- he had this look about him, and he just accepted my decision without a word of protest."

"Well whatever it is," the computer replied smoothly, emotionless, "You are under no conditions to interfere. I want to see what pans out. Knowing him... It should be interesting. Especially now he has these new... resources of his."

"You're referring to his friends?"

"I don't recall mentioning friends."

"What do you-"

"Roger," the computer sighed, "you must understand I am incredibly busy at the moment and the threat of a twelve year old boy doing something stupid is not exactly first on my list of problems. I do have a mass murderer to catch."

"Of course L." Roger sighed, putting his face in his hands. "I am sorry to have wasted your time like this."

"Not at all. I assure you your reports are what keep me going. Thank you for being so understanding. Goodbye Roger." Click.

xXx

**1:31 AM**

Near's eyes were fixed on the front door of the house as he lay still in the deep shadows of that old oak tree. Any moment now...

Suddenly a shape appeared at the door, a tall black shape, and then another, shorter one close behind it. Near's stomach did an excited back flip. The shapes made their silent way over to him.

"Near?" whispered one of them in a girl's voice as they looked blindly into the darkness. Rei.

"Right here." Near replied, standing up. She spun around to face him, hand going to her mouth to stifle a cry of fright.

"Wow. You were so still I couldn't see you." she giggled quietly as she and the tall shape behind her quietly moved closer to where he stood. He smiled. She was obviously as wound up as he was.

"Brendan?" he asked of the taller shape.

"Yep. It's me." he heard whispered back in the darkness.

"Have you got everything?"

"Yeah, its in my back pack. Almost killed me to get it. I was sure the cleaning lady saw me lifting it. Had to hide it behind the couch."

"Let me see it." Near whispered, holding out his hand. After fumbling in the dark for a moment he found the pack that Brendan held out to him. He unzipped it quickly and felt around at the three bleach-sized bottles inside it. "Excellent. Good job, Brendan. Rei, have you seen Simòn?"

"He should be on his way now." she whispered back, "He had to stop by the recycling bins at the back of the building, to get the bags like you said. Hey, what's in your bag?" Near wordlessly passed it to her in the dark and she felt around inside it, as Brendan drew nearer to get a good look too.

"Heh. Cool." he said. Near ignored him, turning instead back to the building.

"Okay, we'll just lie low here until Simòn comes." Near informed them softly. They crouched together in the darkness, waiting breathlessly, eyes fixed once more on the building they had just escaped. Near waited, heart in his mouth. Had something happened? Had Simòn been caught? Eventually one more shadowy figure appeared from behind the building and Near allowed sweet relief to wash over him. Then, another figure; smaller. Rage.

He turned to Brendan. "Why the hell is Pepe here?!" he whispered furiously. "I told you Pepe wasn't supposed to come!"

"He wanted to come!" Brendan protested, leaning away from Near's dark form. "He kept bugging us and bugging us and we figured so long as he didn't get in the way he could tag al-"

"You guys weren't even supposed to _tell_ him!" Near retorted furiously. "What the hell do you thinks gonna happen if he gets hurt? Do you think he might cry? DO you think someone might hear it if he does? Do you think if he knocks something over or does something else stupid he might give us all away?"

"I didn't think-"

"Like _that's_ news." Near spat. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as the two figures approached them. "Fine. He can come. I swear though, if he does anything to ruin the plan, I am holding _you_ personally responsible." the two fumed in silence for a moment or two after that. Then, "Am I correct in the assumption that Hannah is _not_ on her way here or did _you_ go behind my back too?" Near asked darkly of Rei.

"Of course not!" she whispered anxiously. "I wouldn't do something like that!" Near felt Brendan turn to her in the dark and suspected he was giving her a dirty look. It was hard to tell, in this light. Soon enough, Simòn and Pepe were stepping into the shadow of the tree.

"Simòn, Pepe, over here!" Rei whispered, and they approached the trio in the dark.

"Simòn. You have everything?" Near asked, more sharply than he intended. Simòn hefted the two large but light sacks towards Near. "Alright. Everything seems to be under control so far. We're gonna approach the barn in pairs, clear? Everyone knows where it is?"

There was a quiet chorus of assent. The barn was a rickety building with a corrugated iron roof, not too far back in the grassland behind the Wammy's institution. It was where all the adult personnel who left at night parked their vehicles, as far away from the orphans as possible. Of course, they hadn't considered the possibility of an idea like Near's. If they had, they wouldn't have made it so far from the orphanage. If they had, they wouldn't have neglected to install surveillance there.

Then there was a quiet; "Near?"

Near almost screamed, himself. The entire group jumped nearly a foot in the air when the torchlight hit them. Pepe gave a short scream before a hand was clapped over his mouth by Brendan, who had already realised who the intruder was.

"...Linda?" Near asked, squinting into the light, forcing his voice from shaking. Relief made his limbs feel like jelly. His ears still strained for any sign that Pepe's scream had roused anyone. Hopefully Brendan had stopped it soon enough. He had been so sure that that was it. That was the end. _But it was just Linda_... He took a deep breath.

"Linda what are you doing here?" he asked softly, taking a couple cautious steps towards her. "You said you weren't going to come."

"I..." her voice was shaky and breaking, as if she had been crying. "Well I thought..." it was obvious he wasn't going to get anything out of her any time soon. He turned back to the others.

"You guys go on without me. I'll catch you up." They all gave a nod and Brendan took charge, directing Rei and Simon in the direction of the barn. Near turned back to Linda. "Are you okay? Do you want to come after all?" she was sitting down on the grass and dirt now, so he followed suit, confused. Why the hell would she show up when she didn't want to come?

"Near." she managed to find her voice. "You mustn't do this." so _that_ was it. Near stifled a sigh of frustration. "You'll get caught, and then you'll get in _so_ much trouble, and then you'll-"

She was silenced by a pale finger on her lips. In the light of the torch he could see her face. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, her hair half-falling out of her pigtails, her nose red as well from being rubbed- from the snot of crying. He had to suppress a shudder of disgust. _Completely graceless,_ he thought distastefully to himself. It was annoying that she had come tonight just to try to convince him to call it off. Still, he couldn't leave her only so she would run to wake up Roger or something.

He needed to ensure she would keep their secret.

"Don't cry Linda," he said, smiling hesitantly, brushing a tear or two from her face as she looked wide eyed at him. He had never touched her before. "Your smile is so pretty." After a brief, reluctant hesitation he leant in towards her and lightly kissed her on the lips, glad that the others were not present to witness it. Even more glad once it was over. She sat like a stunned rabbit in the headlights, staring at him open mouthed. He gave her a little smile and left her there. That would be enough, he hoped, to stop her dobbing on them.

Only once she was out of sight did he let himself wipe his mouth disgustedly on his sleeve. Urgh. He was never doing that again. He ducked between shadows on his way to the barn, always casting glances over his shoulder at the institute. There was no movement from the dark building. Everyone was still asleep. Near's stomach was afire with excitement once more, as he ducked around the door of the barn.

He couldn't prevent a smirk rising to his lips at the sight before him. Roger's favourite car; his shiny red 1959 Daimler sitting innocently beneath the barn's rickety wooden rafters. And the other four had already started on it. _You take away my toys, I take away yours... _

Simòn was using the bottles Brendan had brought to smash through the windows of the car, using his jacket to muffle the sound.

"It's a real shame." he remarked as he destroyed the last one. "It's a goddamn nice car." Near's only reply was an evil smirk in the darkness of the barn. A thrill was going through him, seeing his plan; the product of his imagination put into action. His orders followed. A powerful, soaring feeling it was, and he was enjoying it more than any puzzle or game he had ever had before. He would have to thank Roger for the opportunity later. He snickered to himself.

Rei hung back as the other two set about stuffing the paper from Simòn's bags through the now glassless windows. Near noticed this and handed her his own bag, the canvas bag, and whispered something in her ear. She gave a quiet little laugh and after calling Pepe with her moved to the front of the barn to carry out his instructions. Once Simòn and Brendan had gotten the bonnet open Near grabbed one of Brendan's bottles and uncapped it, pouring it liberally over the inner working's of Roger's car. Simon and Brendan used the other two over the rest of the car, inside where all the crunched up paper was, in the boot, in the tyres.

Once they were done they turned to see what Rei and Pepe had done. On the concrete floor in red spray paint was emblazoned "**CaN't yOU tAStE THe JusTIce?**" Near gazed at the slogan in satisfaction as the others all exchanged nervous and excited grins around him.

They followed him when he turned back around to survey their work. For a few moments they all simply stood there, looking at the car, waiting.

"Okay. Do it." Near's soft order spurred them to action and Rei withdrew a match from her pocket, lit it, and then passed the box to Near. He lit his own and passed the box along. Once they each had a lit match, they all edged closer to the car.

"Ready... _Now_."

They threw their matches into the car; Near's landed in the bonnet, where a roaring fire sprang up in a matter of seconds. They watched their flames eat up the paper inside of the car, take hold of the upholstery. When the fuel in the tank suddenly caught alight and fire spurted towards them, they stumbled back a few paces, laughing in delight. The flames only grew, climbing higher and higher and higher. The heat on their faces was growing unbearable, but still they stood there, just for a few moments more, to watch the car burn.

Which, in the end, was their big mistake.

Near's own hot eyes were fixed on the melting, bubbling paint when he heard someone scream his name. He looked up, just in time to meet Rei's horrified eyes before something killed him.

Something smashed him over the back of his head and he dropped to his knees, and then something else, something sharp and heavy smashed into his back, slicing through him, impaling him. He felt it smash his ribcage wide open, felt it drive through skin and muscle and veins.

Around him people were screaming, first in fear, then in agony. He was so confused, so very very confused. He didn't quite understand what had just happened. What had just happened? What had gone wrong? His vision was going black, the blistering heat was ebbing away, but he could feel burning things falling on all sides of him. He was in such pain... such blinding agony...

The last thing he heard was a scream. The scream of someone dying.

xXx

Watari slammed the door shut behind him as he stormed into the room.

L was sitting in his usual place, looking at his two beautiful prisoners on the screen. He had had them under constant surveillance for a couple of days now, and he had been steadily driving himself insane thinking and rethinking the situation. What he had said earlier to Roger was not, in fact, a lie. The reports from Wammy's did provide him with something of an escape. It was the closest thing he had to a holiday, those precious moments he could watch Near grow, watch his slow, steady metamorphosis. The Kira case, however, wound around in circles: there was no end and, it seemed, no beginning either. No progress to be made. It tortured him.

So it was a welcome relief when he was broken from his complex, convoluted inner monologue by the sound of the door slamming. He looked up in curiosity. Watari never slammed the door. Especially not at three o clock in the morning. He was even more confused when Watari forcefully grabbed the chair L was sitting in and turned it away from the screen, to face himself.

"L." Watari began. His voice shook.

"Yes, Watari?" Underneath his blank exterior, L's stomach turned in anxiety. What in God's name had just happened? Watari took a deep, calming breath, but sweat still stood out on his face, and his eyes were burning when he opened them once more. He let go of the chair and stood up straight.

"It's Near." Watari shortly informed him. L's stomach was truly sinking now. "It happened." _It happened..._ He had known Near would do something, when he had spoken with Roger about it he hadn't really been concerned... He trusted the boy's judgement as much he trusted anyone's... but the look on Watari's face now-

"There are... casualties?" L asked in a quiet, even voice. The only thing that betrayed him were his hands, gripping the armrests with enough force to turn his knuckles white.

"Two children are dead. Two more injured but stable. One is in a critical state."

L was beginning to feel dizzy. Two dead... He stood, gripping the chair to stable himself. After a moment to pull himself together he attempted to speak again.

"And Near?" he managed to ask. "He is?"

"Alive." Watari said, and L's hand slipped from the chair in relief. He took a deep, slow, silent breath and composed himself. Near was alive. His plan was still intact. All was not lost, yet. "He is the one in a critical condition." Watari continued, "They are not sure if he will make it or not, but they're remaining optimistic." Watari's mouth pulled down at the corners on the last word, as if it was distasteful. L was taking in his words, nodding. Near would survive. That was what mattered most at the moment.

There was a long silence in which L stared at his feet, face blank, his mind working furiously. Watari waited patiently for him to speak. He knew when L needed silence, or when he needed conversation. His years of raising him and working with him hadn't come to nothing. He knew whatever L was thinking right now was important so he waited, until L finally spoke.

"I am going to Wammy's, Watari." L informed the him, quiet and composed. After an initial shock Watari slowly nodded in agreement. Indeed, that was the best thing to do right now. L's presence would prevent a panic amongst the children. He would be able to provide Roger some much needed support as well... He would be able to stop the boy Near from becoming out of control. Yes, this was the best course of action to take.

"I will pack for you. What of the Kira investigation?"

"You and Yagami-san will take over the majority investigation. I will need constant reports, of course. Send me any new material and I will continue working from England."

"Of course." Watari began to turn away but L's hand on his shoulder made him stop. He turned to look into those abyss-eyes he knew so well.

"Watari, just promise me no matter what, make sure you do not release Yagami-kun and Amane-san until I return. Regardless of the opinions of the rest of the team. And do not let either of them know that I am not in the country. Inform the team that they are not to know. Make sure Matsuda hears you especially. He always ruins things like that." Watari allowed himself a smile.

"Of course, L."

"I will only be a few days anyway." L put his hands in his pockets as he returned his eyes to the screens. Nothing had changed during their short conversation, and yet, everything had changed at once. Watari smiled a little at L's words. It was as if L was trying to convince himself that he was making the right decision.

"I will book your flight for tonight."

"Thank you Watari." They exchanged a small, ironic smile. It was always times of crisis like these that united them. Crises provided them with the motivation for the efficiency they could only achieve working together.

xXx

L was on the plane to England in only an hour or two.

Watari had explained to L on the way to the airport the exact details of the incident. L had listened to him in silence as he had spoken of the attempted arson; the fire that five children had lit in Roger's car, the weakened roofbeams that had caught fire and come crashing down upon them. L nodded at appropriate places; showing he was listening, but never once said a word. His eyes were dark, unreadable even for Watari. Watari couldn't fathom what he was thinking; whether he felt horror, or grief, or guilt, or merely the distant objectivity he always employed in solving a puzzle, or a crime.

Did he feel anything at all? _It's his **fault**. He **should**, _Watari thought bitterly_. _Two children were dead, after all. Two of _Watari's_ children. _Watari's_ orphans; orphans that were under _his care_. Watari had met the two children himself, as he met all of the children that were accepted into Wammy's. L had never met them. He had no reason to value their lives. But Watari couldn't help but hope that L felt _something_. _Some_ sort of regret for what had happened. And then there was Near. Did L care for Near at _all_? Did L feel _anything_ for the boy who was unwittingly sacrificing his childhood; his happiness to fulfill L's plans? Watari supposed he could never be sure. But he did hope. With all of his heart.

They said their short goodbyes in the terminal.

"Be gentle with him." Watari suddenly said, just as L was about to turn to go through the security gate. Quietly, seriously; "He needs someone who will look after him. And I don't mean his injuries."

L simply looked at him blankly, lips parting as if he were about to say something. About to retort. Watari half-expected another berating about how Near wasn't a weakling. Or perhaps the cold statement that L and L alone knew what Near needed. But all L did was set his jaw and nod once, before turning away.

Watari watched the plane take off, wishing his charge- the closest thing he had to a son- a silent goodbye. Goodbye and good luck. He was interrupted by the beeping of his phone. Chief Yagami wondering where he and L were. He sighed. It was going to be a long couple of days.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I'm gonna keep this short, because I'm exhausted, I need to go to bed and I've already had to edit this chapter twice (because I accidentally lost the first edited version). Then theres also the fact that this is the longest chapter so far. XD I don't think theres too much I need to comment on in this particular chapter. I originally wanted the slogan they spraypainted to be "GiVE BaCK CHriStMAs" cause I thought it was funny (don't ask me why) but I changed it because I figured it kinda needed to be relevant. =P**

**Oh! and you may notice this is the first place where I begin to start totally screwing with canon. Mainly in the "L leaving halfway through the imprisonment arc to go to England" thing. Yeah. Originally I was going to be very strict about keeping to canon, but then I decided that I wanted L to go to Wammy's, so that whole idea got thrown out the window. What L is going to DO at Wammy's exactly, you will have to wait til the next chapter to find out! ^^**

**Just one more thing before I go, I am fast approaching the end of my "already written out chapters all ready to be posted up to FF" stockpile so I apologise in advance if the next couple chapters are a liiiittle bit later that I usually put them up, only cause these things take a long long time to write and edit and post when they're not all like "and now heres one that I prepared earlier! :D". Don't worry though, I will still do my best to stay on time!! (and reviews are a good form of encouragement. *winks*)**

**While we're on the subject thanks to all the reviewers and alerters and favouriters once again! Going to go get some sleep now =)**

**~CANDY**


	8. Feeling Guilty

**Chapter 8: Feeling Guilty**

Near awoke for the first time in two days, on the long ambulance ride home from the big city hospital. He was nowhere near ready to be released, the doctors had said, but they had him transported back to Wammy's anyway. Something about blackmail and debt and promising to make it all go away if the hospital followed their directions in regards to the boy. Near wasn't aware of all this, however.

In fact he was only vaguely aware of the beeping of the machine wired to his very heart. Only vaguely conscious of the IV drip in his arm. He was only vaguely aware of the tight, white bandages wrapped around his forehead, and the dull throbbing in the back of his skull.

What he was very aware of was the pain of his chest, which had him breathing as shallowly as he could. The shaft had torn right through his body, the surgeon had said. In one side and straight out the other. It had re-broken his bad rib and smashed through a couple more. All the surgeon could say was that he was lucky it had missed his vital organs. He was lucky to be alive. Lucky he was healing so fast.

Near wasn't sure what he felt, now he had regained consciousness, but he was fairly certain he didn't feel lucky.

It had been the roof beam, he remembered dully as the sound of the road danced around the edge of his consciousness. The fire had grown too large; it had weakened the already weak rafters and they had broken and fallen. And one of them had gone right through him. Right through him... It was his own fault. Tears of pain and shame trickled out from beneath his closed eyelids. He didn't want them to know he was awake. Didn't want to talk to them. Didn't want to be subject to those grave, serious looks of theirs.

He was so _stupid_. He should have taken into account the structural integrity of the building. He should have known that the fire would grow that high that quickly. If he had they could have gotten out in time. He wouldn't have blood on his hands.

He wasn't supposed to know about it, but he had heard them gossiping whilst he was pretending to be asleep. The Asian girl and the little boy that had died. Apparently Rei had been killed immediately. The heavy beam had killed her on impact. But Pepe hadn't been killed- he had been trapped underneath it, and Brendan and Simon hadn't been able to get him out. So he had burnt alive.

Alive and screaming.

Every time the painkillers pulled Near down to sleep he was tormented by nightmares of screaming. Screaming and burning flesh. He would wake in a panic and strong hands would push him back down against the bed until he stopped struggling. He ended up fighting sleep. Fighting against it as if his life depended on it, however hard the painkillers made it. He would bite his lip, try not to blink; anything that would keep the dreams at bay. He spent the hours drowning in an ocean of torment; if it wasn't the dreams, then it was the physical pain of his injuries, or his very thoughts, twisting and turning on themselves, going round in circles, driving him insane.

Was he a murderer now, he wondered as he tried to keep from falling asleep. Was this what being a murderer felt like, he wondered. No... This was what too much morphine felt like. He'd had this feeling before. He tried as much as he could to keep his mind from Rei and Pepe. From Pepe's scream of agony and terror. From the smell of burning flesh. He tried to keep his mind from the devastating certainty; that he had killed them.

He was taken to his room in a wheelchair. He kept his eyes on his feet, perfectly aware of the stares he was receiving as he was wheeled by. He wanted them to go away, all of them. He couldn't stand to bear their judgement. He hurt too much right now. It hurt far too much.

The medics helped him into his bed and he bit his lip to keep the tears at bay. Bit his lip against the pain. He feebly asked the nurse that had helped him how long it would be until he was better. She gave him a sad look and told him that he had broken and re-broken that rib too many times now, it would never fully heal. He would always experience some pain. He waited until she had left to cry. It was a silent, dead kind of crying. Dead, like how he felt dead right now. It wasn't the pain. He could deal with the pain. It was the fact that he had no one to blame the whole mess on except for himself.

He had messed up. It was simple as that. Through his own oversight and stupidity two people were dead, and he would probably never be able to walk again. A tiny, doubtful voice in his mind wondered if one had to be able to walk to be L; if one could still be L if one was a murderer, as he drifted off to sleep.

He was woken not by nightmares this time, but instead by voices; calling out down the hallway outside his room. He cracked an eye and cocked an ear, attempting to ignore the merciless throbbing in his chest and his mind long enough to eavesdrop on whatever was happening outside. It sounded like something important was happening.

"Ben! Ben! BENJAMIN!"

"Kelly, I'm already late for-"

"This is much more important than _chemistry_."

"You're gonna get me in trouble!"

"Fine. DON'T listen to what I have to say about _L is coming to Wammy's_." She said the last phrase as if it was one word.

_...What?! _Near's eyes flew open and he sat, forgetting for the briefest of moments his injuries, which shortly and firmly asserted their existence. He bit his lip to keep quiet. He needed to hear...

"...What?" the boy, Benjamin echoed.

"Nothing. _You_ don't want to hear it. _You_ want to go listen to another boring chemistry lecture."

"Kelly, you tell me or so help me I'll-"

"L. Himself. He's coming to visit the orphanage. Like, in person. For the first time _ever_."

"You're kidding me. No, you're messing with me. Who told you that?"

"I overheard Roger on the phone to Mr. _Wammy himself._"

"Seriously? Oh my _God_..."

"He said it was about those two kids that died last night. You remember Rei from your music class? And Pepe the midget one?"

"Kelly, it's not polite to say stuff like that about dead people."

"What_ever_. All I know is that _I'm _going to go tell everyone else. When they hear they'll_._.."

Their voices faded into the distance and Near was left dumbstruck. L was coming? Here?

Suddenly a great fear settled deep into his heart. L was coming. Because of Rei and Pepe. Fear took hold of him like it never had in his life. L was coming in person, she had said. L was leaving his case- the most important case he had ever taken- showing his face as L, even if it was only to the few Orphans and staff of Wammy's... Regardless, L was about to seriously compromise his personal safety... _and it was all Near's fault. _

He tried very hard to stifle the panic that was constricting his chest, making it even harder to breathe than it already was. She might not have been telling the truth anyway... She might have heard the conversation wrong... Dizziness was settling in, making his head feel light. L wouldn't come... he couldn't... could he?

...Really?

Deep down inside of him, past the panic and despair and agony, there was a small piece of him that wanted to see L's face. A part of him that wanted L to be there, with him. More than he wanted to. More than he felt he should...

xXx

L had arrived in the middle of that night, while all the children were in bed, so as to avoid a major disruption. Now he sat alone in a sparsely furnish child's bedroom. The room he had requested.

The suitcase Watari had packed for him lay open at the foot of his bed. A mess of white shirts, blue jeans and half-finished Pocky boxes. He was only staying until the funeral was over, then he would be gone, back to Japan and the constant threat of death hanging over his head. Despite what had brought him here, it felt good to be back. He looked at the ceiling; scrutinising it. After so many years without seeing it once, he could still remember ever crack and bump in it.

The funeral was in two days time. L sighed, laying back on the squishy bed that had once upon a time been his own. Two days he had here, without Matsuda or Aizawa or Watari or Yagami... _Either_ of them... He sighed once again, breathing in that familiar, that delicious, musty scent. The scent spoke to him of his childhood. Of those sepia coloured days after he had been brought to Wammy's... Saved by Wammy's... The big oak tree, the library, this very room. The second bed that used to occupy it... Bright, baleful red eyes... He snapped himself out of it.

He rolled onto his side, pressing his cheek into the covers as he gazed upon the spot that that bed had once stood. No... He couldn't think on that. No matter what had happened then, this was different. Near was not like B, in any way at all. He shut his eyes tight, shutting out the little voice in the back of his head that spoke of the two children Near had killed. _He didn't intend to kill them... It was an accident..._ But how did he know? After all the endless torture the little boy had to endure? It might have pushed him right over the edge... Just like B... _I survived far worse trials than what Near has had to go through. I was younger than he is too... _But you're not exactly the poster boy for mental health, are you?

L sat up, drawing his knees to his chest, so his mind would clear. He couldn't let the ghosts that haunted this place get to him. He took his black laptop out of his bag and set it up on the bed, intending to resume work on the Kira investigation. That was something that would keep his mind occupied, at least. He had seen Near, before they had set him up in this room. Only briefly, and the boy had been asleep.

It had been different, though, to see him in person. Not as an image on a computer screen. He had been sleeping with a tiny frown on his face, his chest gently rising and falling as he breathed. It had been something of a shock to realise just how pale he actually was; not just a trick of the computer screen. Nearly translucent, even, his hair as fine as spun sugar. L wasn't sure why the realisation had such a profound effect on him. Perhaps it was because while Near seemed so fragile, L remembered the way that he spoke; with such confidence, such force of character. It was peculiar. Perhaps he really _was_ stronger than he seemed, L mused as he looked on the sleeping boy. They had said he was healing fast...

L was jerked from his musings by a loud knock on the door. He looked at his watch. Nine in the morning. He had been sitting here for longer than he had thought.

"Enter." he said softly, expecting Roger with breakfast; he had been told were he to dine out in the hall with everyone else, there would probably be a large commotion. And Wammy's really didn't need a commotion right now.

Instead, as the door swung open he was presented with two teenagers, one a blond and one a redhead, both with grave expressions on their faces. If L was shocked, it didn't show on his face.

"How may I help you?" he dead-panned. They were silent a long while as they took in his appearance. It took him a moment to remember that even though he had seen them both before, they had never once laid eyes on him. He could almost hear them judging him. _So this is L..._ they were thinking. _Doesn't look like L..._ _Are we in the wrong room?_

"You're not in the wrong room." he informed them, and they looked up into his face with surprise, almost as if he had just read their thoughts. "I am indeed L. I know you are Mello..." he pointed towards the blond, then turned to the other. "And you would be Matt, I presume?"

The redhead jerked out of his stupor and nodded vigorously. Apologetically even. However it was Mello who first spoke.

"We want to talk to you, L." he said.

"Oh I see." L replied in a sarcastic monotone, "For a moment I thought you wanted some Pocky and I was going to tell you both to go away." He looked up from his computer and gave them both a dry smile that said _get to the point._ He saw both their eyes flick to his open suitcase, taking in the contents with a little bit of confusion. Mello shook it off, however, and gave him a hard look in the eye. Brave little Mello.

"You're here for the funeral, right?" He leant back against the wall, thumbs hooked in his belt loops.

"News always travelled fast here." L commented vaguely, by was of replying. He returned his gaze to his computer, biting his thumb. Maybe if they thought he was busy they would leave him alone.

"You're not here for _him_ then?" Mello shot back. A vast silence met the teenager's words. He scowled at L, who seemed to be refusing to look at him, eyes fixed only on the computer screen.

"I don't see how that is any of your business." L eventually replied, coldly.

Mello saw red. Suddenly his black-clad palms had slammed down on the bedposts and his furious face was only a foot and a half from L's. Matt opened his mouth perhaps to issue a cry of warning, but if he ever made it L would never know, as Mello had already begun to speak.

"When_ you_ ordered me to physically assault one of my _best friends,_ without giving me any reason except for a _threat_, and also told me I was never again to show him _any_ kind of kindness or warmth of any sort-" he hissed through gritted teeth. "_That_ was when it became my business. When _you_ ruined my life."

L returned Mello's furious stare with a cold one of his own, apparently unmoved. Mello thought he had a harsh life did he? However, inside, L couldn't help but feel angry... though he wasn't sure _why, _exactly. It wasn't like Mello's opinion _mattered, _anyway...

"Is that so?" he simply dead-panned in reply. Mello glared furiously at him. Then, after a long pause in which neither moved; "Is Mello finished?"

"Mello," Matt hesitantly began, and Mello took a step back, scowl still on his face.

"Look." Mello said, crossing his arms, "We just came to tell you you have to call off your experiment. Though, since you came all the way here from Japan, I figure you already know the reason why so I don't really think I have to explain it to you-"

"On the contrary. I have no idea what you're talking about. Enlighten me." L reached down to withdraw two sticks of Pocky from the box by his computer. Mello gaped at him for a moment.

"The two god-damn _kids_ who _died_, L!!" he cried. There was a desperation in his eyes. A desperation L found amusing, crunching on his Pocky. "What more do you need?! He's turned into a fricking monster! You've got to stop this!"

"Please calm yourself, Mello."

"But you're seriously telling me you're not going to call it off!? After what happened!? People have _died,_ L!!"

"One day, Mello, you will learn that sometimes sacrifices are necessary. Besides, people are always dying. There's nothing particularly special about it."

"_Fuck_ that! And fuck _you_! What the hell are you even trying to achieve here!? All you've done is ruined everything!!" tears were standing out in his eyes. He felt everything so keenly. L patiently waited for him to finish. "You think you know what you're doing but you're just _hurting_ him!"

Suddenly L was on his feet.

"Your concern is noted." his eyes were steeled, hard as flints but something burnt behind them. _You're just hurting him..._ Mello had stuck a nerve. What the hell did Mello know? He knew he could show them how petty their arguments were, if he were so inclined. The possibilities were endless.

He could have told them about the weight of the Kira case and all that might happen to the world if he died with no successor, but he didn't. They wouldn't understand. He could have compared their feeble problems to what had happened to A, or to B, or himself before Wammy's house had taken them in, but he didn't. He was too proud, and they were just children. Pathetic, whining children who knew nothing.

And L was _right_. Even if he _was_ hurting Near, then that was a necessary evil. The end most certainly would justify the means. In fact, it would save him, in the end. He wasn't hurting Near, he was saving him. Mello was the one who was wrong.

"I am sorry to cut this conversation short, but I have work to do. You can show yourselves out." _Go away._

They stared at him for a couple moments, mutely. Mello stormed out of the room first, leaving Matt to quietly shut the door behind him. However at the door the red headed teen hesitated, turning back around to L to look at him through tinted goggles.

"It wouldn't kill you to care about someone else, you know." he said softly. Sadly.

L simply looked at him, eyes black and fathomless.

xXx

"L? Can you hear me?"

L nestled himself deep into his covers, his sleek black mobile phone to his ear, his sleek black computer on his knees. He had spent the greater part of the day curled up in this very spot, only going out to meet with the children once. That alone would have been exhausting enough, what with their questions and clamouring for attention, but the conversation with Mello and Matt had made him want to be alone anyway.

He wasn't really sure why. What had they said that made him feel this way? That pressure, that suffocating pressure was back in full force, and he hated it. He told himself he had to continue with the operation. He couldn't call it off. It was because of Kira. If he died, the Kira needed an opponent. The world needed him to have one. And Near was the best option there was.

But deep inside him, imagining that fragile, pale child up against the biggest mass-murder the world had ever seen made L uncomfortable. He couldn't pinpoint how he felt about it exactly. It just seemed... wrong. _You're hurting him! _He knew that... he had known that the whole time... So why did it suddenly matter now? What had changed?

"L!" Watari's anxious voice finally got through to him, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Hn?"

"Are you there? Is everything alright, L?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

"I've been saying your name for a couple minutes now and you haven't responded."

"... It must have been the phone. Maybe something happened to it whilst you were installing all the new security." L easily lied. The truth was, he had been so lost in his thoughts he hadn't been paying attention. His thumb tasted of metal.

He looked down at it in mild surprise. His teeth had left little red holes and purple bruising on his skin. He must have bit right through it when he had been thinking. He wrinkled his nose at the bitter taste, and pulled out another couple sticks of Pocky to mask the flavour with. As he was wiping the blood on his covers he became aware Watari was speaking again.

"Before I report on the Kira case I feel I have to ask... is everything alright with Near?" L looked up at the computer screen, opening the e-mail system he had created and programmed specifically for Watari and himself. No one else in the world even knew about it, let alone knew how to access it. It was probably the most secure system in the world.

"Sending you all the info now." L said, pressing a few important keys with his forefingers. "Sent."

_Making fast progress. I haven't been in to see him as of yet, but I've been keeping an eye on the security footage, and he's been kept occupied. Puzzles, for the most part. He hasn't eaten since he's returned, but they've lowered the dosage of painkillers, and he's adapting adequately. _

On the end of the short message was attached several clips of the security footage so Watari could see for himself. There was a brief break in the conversation as the message was sent and Watari reviewed all the contents.

"That's all."

"I see." There was more silence; L presumed Watari was watching the security footage he had sent.

"...Wouldn't sitting like that..." Watari began hesitantly, "Well, wouldn't it cause him immense pain? With his knee to his chest like that, a whole lot of pressure would be put on his ribs..."

"Precisely." Replied L through a mouthful of Pocky. "That's the reason he does it. He has worked out that the pain sharpens and focuses the mind. He has discovered how it helps him to think." There was a long pause as Watari registered what L had said. Then, curiously;

"L... your spine, is it still-"

"The rest of the orphanage seems to be dealing with the two children's death fairly well, actually-"

"L!-" Watari reprimanded, but L cut in, eyes narrowed, voice raised slightly. Firm.

"Only one child had to be taken to the counsellor, actually. She broke down in tears during her art class, but she felt well enough to have lunch with the rest of the children in the hall. I think we over estimated the impact of the recent deaths. Things aren't as bad as we had expected." _That's a blatant lie, _L thought to himself. The deaths had sent a shock through the orphanage, that much was plain to see, even simply from the consistent drop in the grades of every student across the board. But the spiel had served it's purpose; Watari had given up on his question.

"The funeral is tomorrow. I don't believe Near is attending but I have heard he is the only child who isn't."

"And the security there?"

"Roger's best, I'm informed"

"Well I trust Roger's judgement." Watari seemed satisfied.

"I don't." L shot.

"L, be reasonable."

"You weren't the one abandoned by the side of the road in a straight jacket for two and a half days."

"We've been through this."

"..."

"L... tell me, are you okay?" Watari's voice was worried. That pressure was there again in L's heart, suffocating him.

"Watari... I've been here almost twenty hours now, and I still haven't gone to see him." L was toying with the now empty Pocky box, tearing it into long strips of cardboard, as if afraid to keep his hands still. "I think... I'm afraid to see him. To speak with him in person." L's voice was very small, and it unsettled Watari just a little bit.

"It's called guilt, L." Watari said bluntly, hoping to snap L out of it. "You have every reason to be feeling it at the moment, with all you've done to him. I thought you were impervious to such things." Watari wasn't good at sarcasm. L made the mental note to mention this to him later.

"So did I..." L replied quietly, making short work of the Pocky box. So that was what that suffocating feeling was. That relentless pressure upon his heart. It was guilt. L mused on this for a moment. He'd always associated guilt with criminals... Guilt was something the guilty felt... But he _was_ guilty. So very guilty... He felt dizzy.

"It's... not too late to call it off, you know." Watari said gently. But there was an eager edge to his voice that suddenly made L feel sick with petulant anger. With resentment. _No!_

"Yes it is." L snapped, harshly, for him. "It's _far_ too late. Besides. I made the right decision." he narrowed his eyes, and Watari heard it in his voice.

"Whatever you say, L." he sighed and began his report on the Kira investigation. As he spoke, however he noticed that L seemed to be not quite all-there.

After all, Watari was able to read L in a way no other person alive was able. While most would see his customary blank stare, Watari would notice the direction of the gaze and other small things, which often gave some hint to his thoughts. And, though now he did not have body language to rely on and L's voice was it's usual emotionless monotone, Watari couldn't help but feel that there was definitely something seriously troubling him. And he also felt he knew what it was...

Watari finished his report and the transfer of all the new files, but he was reluctant to sign off just yet. He had to say one last thing.

"It's okay, you know. To feel things... It's a way of knowing you're alive." L could feel the gentle, fond smile in his voice. The voice he had used when L was only a young child; woken from a nightmare, perhaps, or having skinned his knee.

"I already knew I was alive." L retorted half-heartedly, raising his cut thumb to his lips, sucking on the wound. Then, after a long silence;

"Watari..." he nearly whispered it. "...I can't help but feel I am making a huge mistake..." Watari, far away in Japan, simply smiled his gentle smile and shook his head.

"It is never a mistake to care about somebody."

* * *

**A/N: POOOOOOOCKYYYYY! Because L needed some sort of sweet that was relatively easy to transport across countries, and Pocky is also very Japanese, so it makes sense for him to bring it with him. And very delicious. I feel a little more sorry for L in this one, everyone's picking on him D= **

**And about the whole straight jacket by the side of the road thing... I'm not entirely sure what that was. Some subtle hint to L's mysterious past, perhaps? Same with the subtle hint about his back condition. And then the not-so-subtle hint about BB. **

**Anyway, I want to say thanks again to everyone who reviewed and favourited or even just read it (you lazy people =P). Love you all! **

**~CANDY**


	9. Bells

**Chapter 9: Bells**

Near watched the clock tick the day away.

No one came in to see him, except for the infirmary lady, to check up on his condition. She didn't speak a word. They hadn't seen each other since the first time Mello had hurt him. She simply tended to his needs efficiently and in silence. He didn't speak to her either, merely studied her movements. They were hurried, as if she wanted to get out of the room as soon as possible. _Afraid of being left alone with a murderer, perhaps?_ He wondered groggily as he lay back against his pillows, closing his eyes. He kept as still as he possibly could; that was the only way he could experience some relief. They had lowered his painkiller dosage, to his displeasure.

He slept for long hours, nightmares gradually beginning to trouble him less. He could almost feel himself healing, every time he woke from one of those deep sleeps. Of course, he thought, there was the possibility that he might just be getting used to the pain. He wasn't entirely sure. I was hard to think in his current condition.

Hours passed in silence; the gluggy lunch that the infirmary lady had left with him grew steadily colder. He wasn't sure whether it was scrambled eggs or porridge. Either way, it didn't matter, as he was stubbornly ignoring it. He felt if he ate anything he would only have to vomit again, anyway. He busied himself with one of his puzzles; the infirmary lady had left a few boxes on his bedside table. Near wasn't sure what to make of that; surely after all he'd done he didn't deserve to have his toys returned to him...

Not once was he visited; not by Brendan, Simon, not even by Linda. This didn't surprise him in the slightest, nor did it particularly bother him, in his state of drug-induced vacancy. Besides, he told himself, it wasn't as if they were his friends. They had only ever been tools of his, he told himself, toys to play with. He had never actually cared about them, or what they thought of him... But was it really so hard just to visit? Even only so they could yell and scream at him for ruining everything. For killing Rei and Pepe. He just wanted to see another person's face; wanted something to break the endless, screaming silence. It would be better to be hated than to be ignored.

Still no one came, and Near spent the morning drifting in and out of consciousness. At exactly 2:26 Near was woken by more raised voices from the hallway. Children running, yelling, running past his room; the direction of the hall.

"He's here!!" they called, and the words broke through the fog in Near's head, hitting home. Hard. L was here.

L... was here.... Near's heart was in his mouth. _L..._

He sat upright, by now quite good at ignoring the stretchy feeling knife-pain of his abdomen. L was here. It felt like electricity was coursing through his body, pushing back the fog, giving him new strength. Adrenaline, he figured. But was he excited, or frightened? It didn't matter now. L was here. In this very building. The same building Near was in. And he would surely come visit Near, too. They would talk. About a thousand different things; art and technology, science and history. And somehow, somewhere along the way, L would make everything okay again.

He didn't start worrying until 6:14 in the evening. Where was L? Surely he should have come by now. The infirmary lady appeared to take away his untouched lunch and provide him with dinner. He asked her where L was, and she shrugged non-committally in reply. He felt his stomach sinking. He asked her when L would be leaving. Tomorrow evening, she said. After the funeral. Well that was okay, Near thought, comforting himself as she took her leave. L would come before tomorrow evening... _Unless he hates you too, now you're a filthy murderer... _

_xXx_

The funeral was over. L would be on a plane back to Japan by now.

Near was sitting upright, as he had been the entire day, and the whole of the night before. Waiting. He stared at his knees, gripping his white covers tightly with shaking hands. L hadn't come. Near's eyes were full, but the tears remained unshed. They simply blocked his vision, distorted everything so it felt like he was in a dream. He couldn't quite come to terms with it. He had waited hours and hours, breath catching every time he heard footsteps outside his door. But L had never come. And now he was gone.

He felt the breathing he had been trying so hard to keep under control become harsh and uneven. He couldn't understand. The only thing he could comprehend was that L had abandoned him. _Just like ever other person in his life._ A small, feeble cry of despair escaped his lips as the tears overflowed and the sobs started. L had been the only one left.

He was so alone.

Not fully aware of what he was doing, he pushed the covers off his legs and swung them over the side of the bed. _Enough_. He had to get out of here. He was suffocating in here. He barely even felt his injuries as he stumbled down the orphanage's white-washed halls. He felt a different kind of hurt instead. He didn't meet a soul as he ran. He made it past the kitchens this time. Out the back doors.

His breath was coming in harsh gasps as he ran. He didn't quite know how long he ran for, through those fields where exposed roots tripped him up and sharp seeds of the knee-high grasses snagged and caught on his socks. He skinned his palms once when he fell, but he didn't even notice, he simply stood once more and kept running. He had to get away from there. Eventually he was too exhausted and in too far much pain to keep running, so he simply walked through the endless fields of long grass, until Wammy's house was no longer in sight. He didn't look back, however. There was nothing for him back in that place, anymore.

They could go find a new smartest orphan in the world, for all he cared. He wasn't going back. So he kept walking, as far as his legs would take him, resolved never to stop until his legs gave out. There was a whole world out there, he knew, and he could find something else. Maybe even find someone who wouldn't lie. Someone who might care for him, a little bit. The world was big. There was more to the it than one small, insignificant orphanage. There was more to life than becoming L. There _had_ to be more.

His sobs and hiccups had died down by this point, and the only evidence of his tears were the shiny track marks on his cheeks and the red rims around his eyes. He soldiered on, into the darkness. Indeed, it was so dark now he could hardly see more than two metres in front of him. It was getting cold, too. He wrapped his arms around his middle, against the cold and the throbbing pain which was steadily reasserting itself. He wondered briefly if he had torn the wound open again while he was running. He decided he didn't care.

Slowly the grass was thinning, revealing beneath it dark, jagged rocks that tore through Near's socks and his feet. He didn't care. It meant he was getting somewhere. He felt a breeze pick up, tugging impatiently at his white curls and at his clothes. It shocked him. He hadn't felt the wind on his face in so long. It smelt sharp; of salt and metal. The ocean. The scent amazed him... All of those years he had spent at Wammy's, never knowing that the sea had been this close... He kept walking until the sharp rocks had taken over completely.

The wind was strong here. It buffeted against him, making his clothes whip around him, his eyes water at the cold and the salt. He thought he heard the soft sound of bells, almost lost in the roaring. It made him smile, a little. He took another step forward, curious as to where the sound was coming from.

And suddenly he was falling through the darkness. Falling, until he hit something hard with a crack. Something cold that swallowed him up and roughly pulled him down, down into a swirling mess of wet and cold and dark. _I'm drowning..._ Near realised numbly as he stretched his hands out before him, ghostly white shapes against the dark water. _And I'd always been so afraid of burning to death... _The last breath Near took was used to laugh. Then he felt the freezing water rush into his lungs, icy and knife-sharp.

Terror. His body shook violently, as it desperately tried to cough the water back up, only to draw in more. Slowly his vision disappeared and he felt his mind leaving him as his body drifted without purpose, like a rag-doll. Right before he blacked out he thought he felt hands. Large, strong hands under his arms, lifting him upwards...

… _Near… Come back… _

Then pain. Cold, sharp rocks on his back and hands on his chest, pushing down. His ribs cried out in agony, but his lungs obeyed, rejecting the water that they had held until now. He felt fingers block his nose and soft lips clamp around his own, felt lungs that didn't belong to him share with him a breath. A breath that saved him.

His eyes flew open, and he turned to his side, muscles spasming gracelessly back into life. He coughed and coughed and coughed until there was nothing left to cough up. He gasped, feeling the oxygen flying to his brain, his heart, his muscles, making him feel dizzy, weak. He could breathe again, he could see again. He looked around in confusion and terror as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, trying to remember where he was. He found himself on a small outcrop of stone above the dark, roaring ocean. The waves crashed against the cliffs around him, throwing up fans of spray: beautiful, powerful things. He watched them in awe until he realised that he shouldn't be here, he should be down there in the ocean, drowning.

Dying, like he had been before- He turned slowly around, his arms hugging his middle, to see what it was that had saved his life.

The creature that he found crouching behind him was a pale, lanky thing, with long arms, legs and long, delicate looking hands. Were those the strong hands that had pulled him from the water? It certainly appeared that way, as the inky dark hair that fell into the man's dark eyes dripped with salty water.

It was the eyes. Those black, fathomless eyes with the dark shadows beneath them. Near's eyes.

"...L?"

The man's dark eyes widened ever so slightly at Near's hoarse question. Almost imperceptibly, but Near saw.

"Are you alright?" the man murmured, his soft voice almost lost in the wind. That low, quiet voice surprised Near. He had half expected a distorted, electric one.

"Are you L!?" he demanded furiously, scowling with sore, red-rimmed eyes. A small, frustrated part of him wondered if he was delusional. Who bases a whole theory on something as ridiculous as a pair of eyes?? A different part of him- the stubborn part- decided it didn't matter. He simply knew he was right.

The man's lips parted and he looked down at his spidery hands, frowning. As if he wanted to answer, but wasn't sure how. As if he had never had the need to answer, before. He looked back up into Near's eyes, seeming to come to a solution. He had a serious look in his eye, like someone facing up so something they had done. Something they regretted.

"I am."

Near felt his limbs weakening, felt himself stumbling forward, onto his hands and knees in utter exhaustion. Hot, salty tears of relief stung at his eyes.

"Good." was his last, whispered word before he blacked out once more, letting sweet unconsciousness take over.

xXx

L woke up to the sound of bells.

Which, in itself, was enough to paralyse him with shock, for in order to wake up one had to have previously been sleeping. And L didn't sleep. Of course, another reason L was unable to move was the soft white thing in his arms, pinning him against the stone wall of the outcrop upon which he sat. It was sleeping blissfully, breathing lightly as it rested it's soft cheek against his throat. L found that he had buried his own face in it's fine, snow-coloured hair. ...Near.

How odd. How strange to wake up here, L found himself thinking absently, more than a little confused. He assessed the situation for a moment or two, as his mind began to clear and memories of the previous night returned to him.

He had come to the cliffs to be alone.

L had come to the cliffs to escape the demanding cries for attention that came at him from all sides whenever he was amongst the children. They never seemed satisfied with any answer he gave them; another question always followed the last. L couldn't help but wonder if anything would ever be enough for them. How did this beautiful, complex world so fail to capture their attention that they felt the need to fill each perfect silence in their desperate quest for answers?

He had come to see the old monastery ruin, his childhood haunt- the source the bells that he could hear now- at least once more before he left that place forever. And that was when he had seen the little white figure standing on the edge of the cliff. He had been shocked. What had Near been doing, so far from Wammy's, by himself? How had he even _found_ this place, injured as he was?

Then he had watched in numb horror as that white figure had plummeted to the dark, swirling ocean below. And suddenly L was running like he had never run before.

He had never been so terrified. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life, not tied up by a vengeful serial killer with a knife to his throat; not when he had fallen from a helicopter 40 stories in the air; not as a child, hiding under a bed as his friends were shot to pieces in that very room; not when he had been kidnapped and beaten until he couldn't move; not when he had first revealed his identity as L to Yagami Raito. No, that moment of sheer terror when the small pale boy wouldn't wake up was worth a billion of those moments and more. _"Near... Near, come back... please, breathe..." _

And now, the sky was beginning to glow that soft, unearthly blue of almost-dawn, and L was holding in his arms the one thing he was the most afraid of. He couldn't lie to himself anymore. It wasn't the threat of Kira that had made L jump off that cliff. It wasn't the greater good that had him using every ounce of strength he had to drag the boy out of the water, onto the rocks.

He hadn't been crying for humanity, when he had thought he was too late.

Just Near.

… _What? _

This realisation terrified him, as he sat there in the slowly lightening morning, and he couldn't help but hold Near a little tighter, as he remembered how it had felt. And even now, when the child was alive and safe in his arms, he couldn't shake it off. That one moment of brutal honesty had stripped away all the careful lies and compromises L used to shield himself from the truth: That he had come to care about the child.

What was it about him that made L smile whenever he was successful or victorious at something he undertook? What was it that made L so fiercely protective and possessive when it came to the boy's fate? What was it that made him obsessively check to see if Roger had sent him anything new whenever there was a computer nearby? What was it about his own brief conversations with Near that so captured his fascination? He wasn't sure, exactly, but he did know that it wasn't solely objective, as it should have been. L felt he might be sick.

The self loathing was quickly settling in. _"You won't be happy until he breaks, will you"_ Watari had said...

Near had bore every horror L had fancied to put him through, and somehow still come out of that as the strong, pure person he had been before. He had survived abuse, betrayal, rejection, despair, crushing disillusionment... And for what? Had L hoped to turn Near into himself? A broken, bitter shell of a person who trusted no one... who loved no one... ? Mello's furious words came back to him. "_What the hell are you even trying to achieve?!" _What had he been trying to achieve? He couldn't remember. He didn't know anymore.

All he knew is that he had just given this child the power to hurt him. This child; the one person on the earth who had the greatest cause to.

That child in his arms was stirring now, his small, pale hands rubbing the grit out of his eyes. He took a few moments of his own to get his bearings, looking around at the cliffs that surrounded them, then back into L's face. He gave a small, contented smile.

"L."

… "_He still has you." _

"_And we will take that from him too, when the time is right" ..._

L tried his best to smile back.

* * *

**A/N: Short one, I know, but hopefully a good one. Course, I'm not the judge of that, YOU ARE!! So let me know what your opinion is. Do you forgive L? Do you hate him even more? (I hope not...) **

**I know it seems weird for Near to be running so soon after he was essentially impaled on a roof-beam (it seems to ridiculous when I put it like that...), but my excuse is that he was so distraught he just muscled past the agony he would have felt when all his wounds reopened whilst running. He's an manga/anime character. He can do that. *shifty eyes* So yeah... Plus, it helps explain the reason he NEVER seems to move or even stand up in the anime... :D He screwed up his body for life.  
**

**I'm not sure I'm entirely happy with this chapter and all L's internal monologue, so I may revamp it later, but I figured it would be better for me to just post it and not keep you waiting than to spend forever editing and editing. =P  
**

**Hope you like it anyway. **

**Love CANDY xxx**


	10. Mirrors and Echoes

**Chapter 10: Mirrors and Echoes**

**__________________**

"_**And so it goes, and so it goes, **_

_**And so will you soon, I suppose...**_

_**So I would choose to be with you,**_

_**That's if the choice were mine to make.**_

_**But you can make decisions too,**_

_**and you can have this heart to break." **_

_**-**_Billy Joel

________________

"How are you feeling?" L asked gently. '_Be gentle with him...'_

"I don't think I can move." was the quiet reply that came from white lips. "I can't move." his small voice was growing panicked. L felt a sinking feeling of horror in his stomach. In attempting to resuscitate Near he had probably reopened every single wound.

"Then I guess I will have to carry you back to Wa-"

"I'm not going back to Wammy's." Near cut in, his voice dark.

L manoeuvred himself so that Near was no longer sitting on his lap but instead to his side, so he could look into those black eyes. Eyes that had a weariness; a hardness too old for their owner. Eyes that had seen far too much far too soon. As he was moved, Near drew in a sharp breath through gritted teeth. His eyes watered with pain.

"I'm sorry." L apologised, realising any movement, no matter how slight would put the boy in agony. Near shook his head in reply. They were silent for a moment, the only noises they heard the soft ring of the bells and the howling of the wind around the cliffs. "Where else can you go?" L eventually asked.

"I don't care." Near retorted simply. "But wherever it is, it'll be better than this." the soft statement actually pricked at the back of L's eyes. It echoed so perfectly those thoughts that a little raven-haired child had had, standing on the edge of that very cliff, staring out at that ocean so many years ago.

"The world is big." L finished quietly, and Near's eyes lit up as he looked up into L's.

"Yes." he agreed. _Exactly._

"But it's a treacherous place." L continued, words quiet and devastating. "It doesn't care about you. The people in it, they don't love you. Not unless it benefits them. Every human's primary motivation is themselves, even mine, and if you look deep inside yourself you'll realise that you're the same." Near's face had fallen. Now, he bit his lip as the truth of L's words sunk in. L felt his felt that suffocating pressure in his heart again as he continued to speak. These words that he wished he didn't have to speak.

This; his last lesson to teach.

"You're lucky to have what you have." he said, managing to keep his voice level, his face blank. "A home to come back to. People who feed you, who give you everything that you want. People who do everything that you ask of them. You have everything you need already here, so you have no good enough reason to be unsatisfied with-"

"Do _you_ care about me?" the boy's soft voice cut off L's carefully prepared sermon in the space of a heartbeat. L simply looked at him in mute shock. He could almost feel his ideas crumbling around him as Near destroyed every carefully constructed plan with one perfect blow.

"What?"

"You said that the world doesn't care. You said it doesn't love me... But I don't believe you." Near's eyes were full, but he held back his tears by sheer willpower, glaring furiously into L's face. A will the likes of which L had never seen, save perhaps in the mirror.

"I-"

"Do you love me?" L could only stare; frozen in shock, somehow both numb and burning at the same time. The silence that followed the demand seemed to stretch on for an eternity.

"I do."

Another eternity passed in which they simply stared at each other in silence. As if into a mirror.

"Well, I love you." L couldn't prevent the ghost of a smile rising to his lips. The way Near had said it made it sound like a challenge. L liked to be challenged.

"Aren't I lucky." Near's responding smile mimicked his own. Then L shook his head. "But that doesn't mean you can just-"

"Then I can go back with you."

"...What?"

"To Japan."

"..."

"I could help with the Kira case-"

"No." L's face was set, his tone final. In it was the authority that could halt nations. The power that could galvanise governments into action, and capture the attention of the world. But Near wasn't deterred. Because he was L's equal.

"Why not? I can speak Japanese. I'm probably smarter than the whole Japanese police force put together-"

"No, Near." L was standing up, indicating that the discussion was finished.

"I don't want to go back there. I can't." Near's eyes were wide in desperation, but L found nothing amusing about it this time. "Don't leave me alone." Near was on the verge of tears.

"Near, stop it. You're already aware that as my successor your life is too valuable- and not just to _me-_ to put in that much danger simply because you're too selfish to understand that-"

"What if I never see you again?" his words were quiet, but devastating, as always.

L looked at him for a moment, then sighed. He crouched down so that he and Near were eye to eye. "I promise you that you will see me again." he said. "Once Kira is caught, I will come back for you. _I promise_." It was amazing, how easy the lies were to say. How they felt like the truth.

"You will." Near's expression was so serious, it made L smile.

xXx

L carried Near in his arms all the way back to Wammy's House. Each step caused Near pain, curled up against L's chest, but he didn't mind too much. They talked as they went along, which distracted Near from the pain at least a little. L told him a little about the Kira case- never too much- but it got them on to the supernatural and superstition, which then progressed to religion which progressed to politics and then history. L managed to forget, for those few, short hours what he knew had to happen. He just let himself enjoy it.

And he would always remember that conversation; that walk back to Wammy's. Until the day he died. That short walk would be the memory that he treasured through long, sleepless nights of isolation and fear, trying to catch a killer who constantly remained one step ahead.

And Near; Near felt that he knew now, as they slowly made their way back, what it felt like to belong somewhere. Here, with the one person whom he could understand; who understood him in return.

Sometimes they would fall silent as L walked, but that was good too. They didn't feel the need to fill it. The wind was bitter, but the warmth of L's body was absorbed through the fabric between them, allowing Near to share it. Just as they had shared a breath;

As they had shared a history.

xXx

_~ a day or two later~_

Near was humming softly to himself as began once again to carpet his floor in blank puzzles. He had found them- to his delight- in his cupboard a day or two after L had gone. Life at Wammy's had essentially gone back to normal. Well, as normal as it could, with all that had happened in the last month. Near was himself was improving. Though he still couldn't stand or walk unaided and kept himself completely isolated from the rest of the students, he seemed happy, at least. But that was about to change.

He looked up at a knock on the door.

"Yes?"

The door was pushed open a crack and in slipped a person Near hadn't seen in weeks. His eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise: It was the black-clad blond that had started it all.

Near's gaze was hard and wary, but somehow Mello's demeanour had completely changed. His usually sharp eyes were wide and anxious, and he had an almost apologetic hesitancy to his movements. Near wondered what he could possibly want...

"Near."

"Mello?"

Mello closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but when he opened them they were determined.

"There's something I've got to tell you."

xXx

It was L's turn to slam the door behind him. He was met with several shocked pairs of eyes as he entered the room, hands balled into fists in his pockets.

"How was your flight?" Watari asked calmly, not looking up from the papers he was studying.

"Watari." L began, eyes hard in unquestionable resolve. "I've changed my mind."

Watari looked at him then, eyes widening in mute shock. Then, once he had managed to pull his thoughts together;

"Matsuda san. Aizawa san. Please leave us for a few moments." he politely ordered. The pair of investigators gave him a curious look, but complied, and Watari locked the door behind them with a click.

"L..." he turned back around. "It's too late."

"..." _No._

"It's already over. Mello told him everything."

"...But..." L's face remained blank, but Watari may have just knocked his legs from underneath him. It was getting hard to breathe. His head spun. _**No. "**_I didn't- I gave no- you couldn't..." Watari was becoming seriously unsettled. Disturbed. L had _never_ lost it like this. He looked like he was about to faint. "You _didn't..." _

L stumbled to one of the stripy armchairs and curled up into the foetal position, his arms tight around his ankles. He rocked ever so slightly back and forward in his seat. He couldn't believe it. He was too late. It had happened already. They had already revealed everything.

Near already hated him.

He closed his eyes. His head was spinning, making it hard to see. _Oh my god... what have I done? … what have I_ _**done??**_ His breath was coming in shallow little gasps. Everything was over now. That was it. _That was it._ He felt Watari's hand on his own, and opened his eyes, to look up into the old man's face. What Watari saw in L's face terrified him. There was nothing but despair there; complete and utter despair.

"L..."

"I gave you no order." L's voice was level, but it shook. He had never looked so helpless. It was like he was a child again.

"I'm sorry L..." And he did look truly sorry, but then he shook his head. "I couldn't risk the chance you might change your mind." his tone was rational; pleading for reason. "You put far too much of yourself into this operation for me to let you throw it all away so easily, and the damage was already done..."

"..." For a moment, L simply stared.

Then; "_What?_" the word was nearly hissed. L snatched his hand away from Watari's like it was poisonous. His abyss-eyes burned into the old man's with a frightening intensity. "_What did you say?" _if there was ever a time that Watari had felt his life was in danger from his dark-haired charge, then this was it.

"I..." L had rocked forward onto the balls of his feet, and he leaned towards Watari almost aggressively. As if at any moment he might pounce on him and rip out his throat.

"_You_ ordered this?" the dark haired man demanded.

Watari's eyes narrowed then, and he drew himself up to his full height. His face was like a thundercloud. Powerful, furious, unforgiving and unrepentant. He was _not_ sorry.

"I did." he declared. "You had already destroyed that poor child's life, L. To not complete what you started when he was already so far gone would just be a waste of time and effort."

"...I _hate _you." L somehow managed to choke. Watari returned his glare in full force.

"You are entitled to. And I _am_ sorry. _So_ sorry." there were furious tears in the old man's eyes now as he finally spoke his heart. "I apologise for everything I have and haven't done that has turned you into the complete monster that you are today. But it was _you_ who came up with the plan. It was _you_ who turned his friends against him. It was _you_ who made sure he was neglected and abused by the adults who were supposed to care for him.

"_You_ are the reason he is crippled for life, and can't stand on his own. _You_ are the reason he is emotionally scarred. And I don't really care how much you hate me anymore, L, because what it comes down to is the fact that he _deserved _to know the truth. He deserves the right to hate you, too. So in all honesty, I am _not_ sorry for what I did." Watari paused at the door. "I hope you learned something from this."

The slam of the door echoed around the small room, in which L now sat alone. Alone and empty, staring at the sheets of rain pounding on the window.

He managed somehow to drag himself shaking to his feet. Somehow managed to stumble to the window and yank it open with a screech and a slam. The wind- that cold familiar wind- blew the rain into the room, at L, gradually soaking his clothes to the bone, soaking through the carpet under his feet. He drew in gasps of that freezing, city-scented air, as if he was drowning. He could almost hear bells. The heavy rain drops hit his face, hit his closed eyelids and trickled down his cheeks, some slipping into his slightly parted lips.

They tasted like salt.

_I hope you learned something. _

xXx

~several weeks later~

There was a knock on the door.

"Enter."

Near's floor was covered in dominoes, and he placed the last one, before his hand he once again rested on his raised knee.

Roger slipped into the room, where the ghostly boy sat amidst his creation.

He truly was a ghost now, Roger thought. The ghost of the fiery, zealous child he used to be. It seemed that when Mello had left that room so had any spirit that the child had left. Now he was simply an apathetic shell of a person, who's only interest seemed to lay in solving puzzle after puzzle. Building tower after tower, then knocking them down. Especially knocking them down. He spoke to no one, ate next to nothing. When he looked at you he did it through veiled eyes, or as if from a distance, and never with any recognisable emotion. It was as if he simply didn't care anymore. Which, Roger supposed, he didn't.

"Speak." Near dead-panned, eyes not leaving the dominoes. Roger decided to keep it simple. That was the easiest way, he found lately.

"He wants to speak to you."

Near's hand froze for a fraction of a second. Not long enough for Roger to notice, though, before the white haired twelve-year-old lightly tapped the first domino, which set off the rest; all coming crashing down. Once the roar of crashing plastic had stopped there was a long silence. Near looked up at Roger from behind his white fringe.

"So why are you keeping him waiting?"

xXx

Near sat on the floor, and a little white mac book sat in front of him, a big, black Gothic 'L' emblazoned on the screen. He didn't look at it, but instead at the pair of dice in his hand that he played with. He didn't speak a word. Neither did the computer.

Icy silence stretched on forever, the only relief being the irregular clicking of the dice in Near's hand and the steady pounding of the rain against the window. Strangely though, it was Near who broke the silence.

"Is it pretty?" he asked, still looking at the dice.

"...I'm sorry?" came that distorted electric voice. The boy looked up into the computer's camera, eyes as cold and hard as stones.

"That piece of my life that you stole." his voice could solidify nitrogen.

"Near, I-"

"Is there something you actually wanted to say to me, or am I just supposed to sit and do nothing for another six and a half minutes? I have things I could be doing."

"I'm sorry."

"... that doesn't change anything." Near said coldly, then went back to playing with his dice.

"I know. But I'm sorry all the same. And I thought you should know."

"Well now I do..."

"Indeed."

There was another agonisingly long silence, before Near spoke again.

"I don't see why." he said.

"Why what?"

"Why you're sorry. Not that I care. But everything went according to your plan didn't it?"

"That's true I suppose."

"So you have no right to be unhappy." Near's words echoed what L had said to him before, that day on the cliffs. Echoed him perfectly. Just like he was supposed to.

"I guess I don't. But I am."

"Why? Aren't I good enough for you yet? Have I failed your expectations in some way?" Near's voice was scathing. It was bitter; resentful.

"No."

"Then why?"

"Because when I told you that I love you, I wasn't lying." came the computers soft, emotionless reply.

"I don't believe you." the answer was too quick for Near to have given the thought any consideration at all. Which stung.

"...All the same, I thought you should know."

"Well your plan worked, didn't it." Near's voice betrayed no emotion, and L couldn't help but admit that it was true. "Sometimes I wish I could find it in myself to still love you, just to prove you wrong, but I can't. Your plan was too perfect. I ended up just how you wanted, didn't I. When you ordered Mello to attack me?"

"...Yes... Perfectly."

"Mhmm." Near agreed expressionlessly. "And I think I am ready now. So you have my permission to go ahead and die."

The words took a moment to register.

"Don't take too long, either."

"It's funny... I think... you have broken my heart..." L sounded mildly surprised. Near only scowled in rage at the computer, before reaching forward and slamming it shut. Now that the camera couldn't see him, he let his eyes fill with the tears of anger that had been threatening since the conversation had started.

"You're just a machine." he accused the computer as hot, furious tears slid down his pale cheeks. "You don't have a heart."

xXx

**A/N: So that was the delicious moment where, after (hopefully) getting all of you to finally like L again, I got to CRUSH/KILL/DESTROY HIM. (my god... I am a terrible person. I am so, so sorry.)**

**I'd like to think that this also fits in with the whole bit of Death Note during the imprisonment arc where L got really harsh (can you say letting out anger on people?), then when he had to let Light go he got really depressed(pretty much self-explanatory).**

**Oh! And the quote at the beginning from the song "So it Goes" by Billy Joel. If you don't know it, I highly recomend you looking it up on youtube or something. It always struck me as a cynic's (i.e. L's) love song, and actually was one of the biggest inspirations for this fic. Such a pretty, sad song. *sniffles* Anywho.  
**

**  
Sorry this chapter took a little longer than usual to get out, and hopefully it lives up to expectations. I did try very hard to get them all in character, especially in that last conversation at the end. Let me know how I did, yes? ;) Its just a tiny little button. Not too hard to press. =P **

**Anywho that's all from me, for now. Expect more very soon...**

**~CANDY**


	11. Epilogue

**~ Epilogue ~**

**_________________  
**

"What's up, Roger?"

Roger faced the two boys with an expression of complete devastation on his face. Near wondered what had happened too, as he sat, but felt no need to vocalise his question. Mello would do that for him, as he always had. Roger didn't look at them when he spoke.

"L... has died." Near's hand froze for a moment.

_What?_

...L had actually died? L _could_ die? _Of course he can die, he's a human too..._ But he always seemed so permanent...

"What did you- Roger?!" Mello was just as shocked as he, it seemed... Near thought as he resumed work on his puzzle. He didn't let himself think on it. Didn't feel it. Mello would do that for him... "Say that again?!" All Near had to do was piece this puzzle together and wait...

"L has died..." the look on Mello's face as the words struck home made Near have to look away; down at his puzzle. He wasn't sure if it was to keep from laughing or something else. Something weaker. Mello ran forward towards Roger's desk.

"Died!? Why?!" _Why do you care, Mello? I thought you hated him... _Near thought, another piece clicking into place. "Was he killed by Kira? Is that it?" Near rolled his eyes surreptitiously. _Of course he was you idiot. What, did you think he'd commit suicide or something? _… Near chanced a glance up at Roger's face. _He didn't, did he?... _If anyone had been looking at him, they would have noticed his already pale face turn ashen. No one was, of course.

"Most likely." Roger said, face serious. Mello couldn't take it anymore. He leapt up onto Roger's desk and grabbed him by the collar. "After saying he was going to sentence Kira to death, he got killed himself?!" Near froze his puzzle-solving, with only a couple of pieces to go. Mello's words had struck something in him. A memory of a soft, low voice. _"I promise you that you will see me again." _

"Is that what you're telling me?!"

"Mello-"

Both of their attention was distracted when Near raised his puzzle over his head and tipped it over the carpet. It was the first time he had ever done so before the puzzle was completed. He closed his eyes, breathing steadily through his nose. Clearing that voice from his mind. That horrible, beautiful voice. They looked at him in apprehension. As if he were about to lose it or something. _Ha. _

"Unless you win the game," He began once again to piece the puzzle together, "or solve the puzzle..." his eyes were dark, hidden behind his white fringe. It would be impossible to tell what he was thinking, or feeling. But that was the way that Near liked it. "...you're nothing but a loser."

Mello stared at him for a moment or two. Like he wanted to say something but couldn't. Didn't want to... or wasn't sposed to? Near glanced at him from behind his white fringe. Were they still holding secrets? Even now? Mello turned back to Roger.

"So who did L choose? Me or Near?" Near almost laughed out loud, but didn't. Because maybe Mello wasn't deluding himself. Maybe there was actually a possibility that Near had been written off as the number one candidate at some point after all that. Maybe they thought he was unstable now or something. _Please. I'm more stable than Mello is. I'm probably the most stable person on the planet. _Still, his ears were pricked for an answer as he pieced his puzzle together.

"He hadn't decided yet." _Oh __**please,**_ _Roger. No one is buying this. _"and since he's dead, he can no longer choose." Something about the phrasing made it hit home. L was dead. He couldn't choose anything. He would never solve anything ever again. Near would never speak to him again. Never shout at him, or argue with him, or laugh with him. He would never breathe in that scent of strawberries and tea, or touch that feathery hair. "_I promise..." _

_...You liar. _

Near hadn't thought it was even possible, to hate L more than he already did... but he did, somehow.

"Mello, Near, why don't you two try joining forces? How about it?" The words snapped Near out of his thoughts, and he almost snickered.

"Hmm, fine by me..." he said, hiding his smirk. Mello and he. Work together. If there was ever a plan doomed to failure it was that. Mello was too proud. And Near had too much of a vendetta. He couldn't help but wonder what the expression on Mello's face was, glancing at the back of the blond's head. Probably rather amusing. _Could you do it, Mello? Could you stand the hate and guilt and fear that would come with working with me? _

"That's impossible, Roger." _I thought so. _"You know that Near and I don't get along." _Which is an understatement. _"We've always been rivals." _Which is a lie. But then I guess that's your fault too, isn't it Mello. "_always."

Near continued to piece his puzzle together in silence, as the wind howled past the window.

"That's fine, Roger." Came Mello's calm voice from in front of him. Near looked up in curiosity. "The one who'll succeed L will be Near. Unlike me, Near can handle things calmly and objectively, like solving a puzzle." the words that were left unsaid hung in the air. "_Like L trained him to..." _Near finished the puzzle, clicking the last piece into place. _New record._..

"I'm leaving." Mello's voice shook with suppressed anger. "I'm leaving the orphanage as well."

"Mello!" Roger called. Near still looked down, at his puzzle pieces. Mello was leaving? Just because... but that didn't make sense... he'd known all along...

"Besides, I'm almost fifteen." he turned back before closing the door. "I'm going to live my life my own way."

Near sat immobile for a moment in thought. Mello could just go, and live his life his own way. If Near followed him out... If he just stood and walked out the door... could he do the same? His eyes grew dark. No. He couldn't.

He couldn't even stand on his own. He wouldn't survive. Besides. As the new L, he would have people who gave him what he wanted, who did what he wanted them to do. He would have puzzle after puzzle to solve, toy after toy to play with. He could have anything he wanted. He didn't need freedom. But it was more than that. Near _wanted_ to solve this case. He _wanted_ to be the one to catch this 'mass-murderer of the century'_. _Besides. L was dead now, and the world needed someone to step into his shoes.

Yes, L was dead... And Near was fairly certain he was glad, as he had told L he would be...

But that wouldn't stop him ripping Kira to shreds for killing him.

___________

**Finis**

**

* * *

**

**A/N: Wow... Its the end... *is nearly in tears*... But since you were all so nice and lovely and really don't deserve this horrible ending to the story, I will probably be writing an alternate ending that isn't quite so... depressing... In any case, this is just a big thankyou to anyone who reviewed or favourited or alerted or just enjoyed it at all. Another thankyou to Suzie Blues, who beta'ed for me. Hopefully you liked what you read, I'm assuming you did, if you got this far. But even if it is finished now, that gives you NO EXCUSE not to review if you like it. Just because the fic is ending does NOT mean that I am dead, and you are exempt from giving feedback. =P **

**Sweet dreams, drive safe, and don't ingest any fatal poisons. **

**Love, always, **

**~CANDY **  
**xXx**


	12. Alt Ending: Apple Sauce

**ALTERNATE ENDING: Apple Sauce**

"Near, I'm going now." Lidner called from the door.

"Okay."

"I'm turning off the lights."

"Okay."

"...You might want to get some sleep for-"

"Goodnight Lidner."

She sighed before she turned to leave. The door clicked shut behind her, and then again when she locked it. Near sat alone in silence and stillness as the huge fluorescent lights shuddered into darkness. Soon it was only the glow of his wall of monitors that lit up his pale face.

Near put down the Lego he had been using to build with. Before him, over his head rose up a huge tower. It was beautiful; with tiers and bridges and an elegant spire rising from the centre. The kind of construction he used to only dream of. He looked up at it and sighed. He would dismantle it tomorrow.

For a long time he just sat still on the cold marble floor, as he often did these days. His onyx eyes fluttered closed and he essentially shut down for a moment or two; blocking everything out. Sometimes he needed to stop thinking. He let his mind go blank; a vast white fortress that no thought or feeling could penetrate. He sighed and opened his eyes once more.

He looked over his shoulder at the armchair which Lidner had moved into the room in the hope that he might nap in it sometimes. As if sleep would make him less apathetic and emotionless. As if it would make him alive.

Or maybe she actually cared for his well-being... _Ha._ Lidner was a boring person, but it wasn't her fault. Everyone was boring, now. When Kira died so had the last interesting person on the earth, it seemed, and Near was left alone to waste away in boredom.

He looked at one of the monitors that displayed the time, in glowing red numerals.

"5:21 am"

Something about those numbers struck a memory in him, but it was unclear what exactly it was. Like hearing only a few notes of a song that you knew well, but nothing more.

He looked around the room, briefly wondering what one did at at five o' clock in the morning when they couldn't sleep. His mind wandered around the room to the files on his current investigation, to his tower, to the wall of monitors, to the armchair; all a dark, muted blue in the half-light. None of them drew him tonight. Tonight he felt impatient. He wanted something new...

Or something old....

He rose, shaking slightly, to his feet. He had decided on exploring. There had to a billion rooms in this colossal building he'd never set foot in before. It had been taking him a long time now, to get used to walking again, but he persisted. Never where anyone could see him, of course...

He pattered silently down the dark halls, not really caring where he was going. He found himself at the end of a particularly long one. He stopped and gave a little smile, a curious smile. A long moment stretched out just like the hallway before him, tentative; hadn't done this in a long time...

He ran. As fast as he could, all the way to the end.

His rib ached in that familiar way, like an old friend that hadn't been seen in a while. When he reached the end of the hall his breath came in gasps and his cheeks were flushed, but he was smiling. He even let out a little laugh, to see how it sounded after so many years of silence. It echoed around the empty hall shyly, making him wrinkle his nose. He wondered what it was about tonight, that was making him act so strangely. As if he was a child.

Near liked the halls like this; dark and silent and empty. He liked knowing that there would be no one there if he walked around a corner. He liked being alone.

People were stupid and boring. They didn't know when to shut up and leave him alone. He hadn't had an actually engaging conversation in years; again, since Kira had died. There had been something about Kira; something almost familiar in the clever and ingenious way he went about his schemes. He could say that Kira reminded him of himself, but that wouldn't be quite right. Almost, but not quite.

Maybe some part of himself...

But Kira had died, and now Near was left to comparatively petty cases that severed only to depress him. Near sighed and turned the corner to find himself at a dead end. His eyes widened. He was in the safe room. On the wall in front of him it hung, a big gun-metal grey box with the most complicated combination lock available. Near let his curiosity get the better of him tonight. He didn't care what happened. He wanted something to happen.

He was sick of being bored.

He punched and clicked in the combination he had committed to memory the first time he had seen someone use it, and the door swung open. Inside lay the book. The book that no one wanted to destroy, just in case. The book that they had been offered billions of dollars for. That innocent little black book that had almost destroyed the world. Near reached a hand inside the safe and withdrew the book. He looked at the cover for a few moments in silence, and sat on the ground, folding his legs up underneath him.

He opened it and flicked through the names inside it. All of these people, dying before their times... Strange how it was only now, seeing each name like this, written out all neatly in Japanese like a shopping list that Near actually comprehended the gravity of it.

Back when the case was still open, when someone had said "millions"it didn't mean anything, Near had never cared very much at all. He hadn't cared about much back then. Even less than he did now... But for some reason when it was just one person, with a name and a face and maybe a family or a lover or a friend who missed them, it mattered for some reason.

There were so many names... Near found himself wondering which one it was... "_Once Kira is caught, I will come back for you, I promise..." Kira is dead now..._

"**Bored, huh?**" came a gravelly voice from the doorway that made Near slam the book shut and whip his head around.

"You." he said. The shinigami stood there, leaning against the door frame, reptilian grin plastered across his face, his eerie eyes flashing yellow in the dark. "What do you want?" Near fought to keep his voice from shaking with the shock. He cursed himself for not expecting this...

"**The question **_**is, **_**what do **_**you**_** want?**" It replied, "**I'm only here because it seems my old notebook has a new possessor.**" the creature pointed at him with a cruelly curved claw.

"So it's mine as soon as I touch it, then?" Near inferred, wishing the creature would step out of the shadows.

"**Nice and quick.**" it replied, nodding. "**Had to explain everything to the last one. **_**He**_** was bored too, you know.**"

"I am not going to be using this notebook." Near said, his eyes narrowing. "I was just reading it."

"**Course, course. That's right, you're the new mighty L, aren't you. You aren't **_**for**_** justice. Now **_**Raito**_**,**" the creature sighed nostalgically, "**There was a guy who was for justice. **_**Really**_** into it you know. Just **_**crazy **_**about it. Ku ku ku.**" it laughed.

Near looked down at the book again, and all the names etched into the pages.

"I don't think I will ever know what justice really is." Near said softly and the shinigami stopped laughing, looking at the small, pale boy curiously. Near looked up at him, eyes hard. "but I also don't think that fact will ever make a difference."

"**You really are an interesting one, aren't you.**" the shinigami remarked.

"How do you mean?" Near fired back, eyes narrowing.

"**Well every **_**other**_** human I've ever known has believed in **_**something**_**.**" it explained. "**But **_**you**__**don't**_**.**" Near opened his mouth to retort but found he couldn't really deny the words. _Did_ he believe in anything? He set his jaw.

"For thousands of years the people of ancient Maya regularly slaughtered their own people in a ritual that was supposed to ensure that the sun rose every morning.

"In the 11th, 12th and 13th centuries Latin Europe waged religiously sanctioned war on Muslims, Jews, Pagans and other religions in an attempt to recapture Jerusalem, killing uncountable amounts of people in the name of their own particular imaginary friends which they saw as better than everyone else's.

"In the 1940s a man called Adolf Hitler sent approximately six million Jews to their deaths as well because he believed he could create a master race. And his entire country believed in him... When has believing in something _ever_ benefited mankind?" Near's voice was emotionless.

"**I wasn't talking about religion." **the shinigami replied, lazily. "**But you knew that..." **Near glared at him. "**I was thinking more of goodness or beauty or freedom or, you know," **it grinned evilly at him. "_**Love**_**." **

"...Love?" Near's tone was faltering, his eyes narrowing. What was the shinigami trying to get at?

"**Yes, love.**" it replied. "**I hear it's to **_**die**_** for. Ku ku ku.**" it cackled.

"...I've forgotten what that is." Near lied quietly.

"**Poor little hero.**"

"I'm sorry?"

"**You have everything.**" it purred, leaning forward in the air so it's face was a foot from his. "**You've got no right to be unhappy.**"

Near opened his mouth to reply but he was frozen from the shock wave he felt as the words went through him. It was hard to breathe. _Right through him_. The shinigami's eyes shone in malicious glee.

"**I thought so.**" It said, and Near noticed it was hanging upside-down. Then after a brief, deliciously tense pause it spoke again. Those lazy, drawled words designed to turn Near's world on it's head. "**Do you believe in the after-life, Near?**" It suddenly asked him. Near's head snapped up.

"What?"

"**Heaven? Hell? Reincarnation?**"

"What are you talking about?"

"**You're afraid of death.**" it giggled. Near scowled at it.

"Of course I'm afraid of death." he shot back. "What human in their right mind isn't?"

"**L wasn't.**"

There was a long silence.

"**I'm hungry..." **

"You're a shinigami..."

"**Do you have any apples?" **

"Apples?"

"**The red things... well sometimes they're green... but the red ones are sweeter. I like them better. Which ones do you like better?**"

"I don't like sweet things."

"**Oh..." **The monster looked practically dejected and it sat down in front of him on the floor, spidery limbs sprawling at odd angles.

"But... um... there's some apple sauce in the fridge, I think..."

"**Apple... **_**sauce?**_**" **

Near picked up the death note and left the room without bothering to make sure Ryuuk was following him. He pattered quietly down the stairs until he reached the tiny kitchenette off of the main office rooms. In the tiny bar fridge sat a jar half-full of apple sauce that Gevanni had tried to coax him to eat one time. He looked at it's label, running his finger over it as he thought. An insidious little idea...

What was he doing... He wasn't even sure this was what he wanted... His thoughts and feelings were a confused mess and he should really wait until his mind was clear before making decisions like this...

Besides, it was a long shot... but what harm could come from trying?

"…" He decided not to contemplate the thought. Near swivelled on the spot to meet the huge yellow eyes of the shinigami, but didn't jump at their proximity, instead narrowing his eyes.

"This is apple sauce." Near said, holding up the jar. "And I am going to give it to you if you do just one thing for me."

Ryuuk's huge golden orbs narrowed and his claws twitched, as if itching for the jar in Near's hand. "**Raito used to do this..." **it grumbled. **"What do you want**?"

"I want you to show me where... well..." he stammered. He hated himself for not being able to finish his request, but it turned out, he didn't have to.

"**Where they **_**go**_**?**" Ryuuk finished for him, grin widening in understanding and eyes flashing. Near swallowed and set his jaw, nodding.

"Without killing me... I just want to see..." a new thought struck him. "Can you do that? Is it even _allowed?_" the shinigami had cocked it's head to the side, like a bird, examining something shiny.

"**I don't know... I suppose its **_**possible**_**... No one's ever asked me to before..."**

"You're so useless." Near replied, turning away from him once again, to put the jar back in the fridge. Then he felt the claws on his shoulder turning him back around.

"**Not so fast..." **it said, and Near's heart found it's way to his throat. The shinigami was so close... ** "Anyway, I think I like you, kid. You're an interesting one... I can't promise it won't be... **_**confronting...**_** you really want to see it? You want to see what happens to people after they die?" **the creature drew somehow even closer...

"I want to come _back." _Near replied firmly, willing the authority that he had grown so used to back into his voice. It was hard, with that sweet, rotting smell of the death god filling his head. "You have to swear..."

The shinigami only grinned it's reptilian grin.

xXx

Halle Lidner unlocked the heavy doors with a thunk, and made her way through the huge, empty white corridors, up to where the little white cloud of misery would be waiting for her. He was probably building something huge and precarious, having already finished everyone's work for the day the night before, while he should have been sleeping. She sighed. She wished he would sleep.

She checked her watch; Gevanni would be there in about half an hour.

_Scratch that. _She thought. _I wish he would __**smile.**_

"!"

She almost dropped her bag at the sight before her, when she entered the room. There he was, curled up like a little white kitten in the big armchair she'd gotten for him. His eyes were gently closed and his ribcage gently rose and fell as he slept.

_Slept..._ she felt dizzy. He was _sleeping_. There was even colour in his cheeks, for once. She looked again and noticed the red marks were actually _old tear tracks?_ She set her things down on the table, drawing stealthily closer to the sleeping boy in the chair. She could hardly believe it.

At a footfall closer to him his eyes flickered open and he stared into space for a moment or two, a couple more warm tears sliding down his cheeks. She was starting to get a little frightened. Then she saw the black book in his hands, and her fears intensified into something similar to panic.

His eyes flicked up to meet hers and he smiled.

"It's okay." he whispered to her. "Every thing's... going to be alright now... he was there... he wasn't lying..." another tear escaped his glassy black eyes.

"Near..." she gasped, dropping to her knees in front of the armchair. "Are you okay? Is everything okay? The book..."

Her words seemed to jerk him from his daze. His eyes widened and he looked about at his surroundings as if he was surprised to see them. He shuffled about so that he was sitting upright now. He looked down at the book in his hands.

"The shinigami came." he replied quietly. Her stomach nearly dropped out, as she remembered those claws, those glittering eyes, that malicious grin. But Near was smiling...

"Did it hurt you?" she demanded, terrified.

"No." he said, and smiled sweetly again. "I gave it apple sauce."

"...What?"

* * *

**A/N: Took a long time to upload, I know, but I wasn't sure what I wanted out of this one so I was banding ideas around for a long time. Can't say I'm not a little happy with the end result, though. Didn't realise how much I liked writing Ryuuk. ^^ Hopefully that gave all you lovely people a bit of a break from the angst that dominated the greater portion of the story. I'm gonna let you all decide for yourselves what happened in between the deal with Ryuuk and Lidner finding Near in the morning. In my mind, however, its very fluffy and sweeter than a cup of L's tea. ^^ I'm interested to hear what you think happened, however.  
**

**Sadly this means that this story IS finishing for real this time, so again a big thankyou to everyone for being so nice and helpful and lovely. This one is definately for you. 3 **

**~CANDY**


	13. Alt Alt Ending

**A/N: I'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYYYYYYY!**

* * *

Halle stared at Near with relief for a second or two. This was the first time in over a week she'd seen him asleep, curled up on the chair like a little white kitten. He even had a little smile on his face. That chair had been a clever decision on her part, and she patted herself on the back for it as she walked over to the desk to put down her bag-

It innocently lay face-down on the table. It lay there small and black and deadly and Halle's heart stopped. She stared at it for a second or two, unable to work out why it wasn't in the safe and for a brief moment the fancy struck her that it could move on it's own. Like one of those cursed objects in the horror movies Gevanni loved to watch... But she knew better than to think that for long. She walked slowly, nearly in a daze, over to where Near lay, unable to process the reality of the situation just yet. Not until she knelt by the chair and put her ear to his lips.

Nothing. No breath.

The next few moments passed in something of a blur as she scrambled to her feet and screamed for help. By the time the all-night security guards were on the stairs she had already phoned the private ambulance in a panic. She was surprised to find tears in her eyes. She never in a million years had thought she would cry for this boy-man, this cold, white robot who treated her like an insect. Still the tears fell as if the world she knew had died. Perhaps it had. Maybe it was only a matter of time, without it's protector, until it came crumbling down. Maybe it was because she'd failed her duty. Maybe she'd grown to love him over these years. What a joke.

In tears, she reached out to touch his face. _Near...come back... please, breathe..._

Then a miracle happened.

A pulse jolted through her. Right through her; from her hand and out like a ripple, to the corners of the room. And white lashes fluttered open. And air sucked in through white lips.

And then the scream.

It tore through the building, stopping the security guards in their tracks. It echoed around the halls, off the blank screens. It wasn't a human scream. It was something truly primal- something animal. Halle took a step back, an almost religious fear wrapping it's icy hand around her heart. Something unnatural and evil had just happened.

"Near?" she whispered, eyes fixed on the boy in white.

He looked at her then, his eyes wide in blank terror. It was as if he didn't recognise her at first. Slowly though, his expression changed to recognition, and then finally... devastation.

"No." he whispered, so quietly she almost couldn't hear. His gaze roamed the room wildly, taking in it's details with a horror. "I can't be back..."

"Near?" she took a step closer. She'd never seen him express any emotion more violent than irritation. Now he looked as if he might lash out at any moment.

Suddenly he stood up shakily on his feet, turning back to her. Every muscle tensed in her body. He took a step towards her. She pulled her gun.

"What are you doing?" his voice was soft, but his eyes burned into hers.

"You were dead a second ago." she hissed through gritted teeth, hands shaking in fear. He smiled. This was enough to throw her off, and her gun lowered just slightly. It was only a split second of hesitation. Just long enough for him to cross the space between them. Suddenly his hand was on hers, pressing the gun hard against his chest.

"What are you doing?" she shrieked.

"Please."

"You're crazy!"

"Halle." he whispered. She'd never seen those dark eyes so full of desperation. She couldn't imagine what they would have had to have seen, to make them like that. His next words were soft. Soft and devastating, as always. "Let me go home."

The gun dropped to her side, tears welling up in her eyes once again. He padded silently over to the table and flipped open the book. She watched him write his name in it, numb. "Why?" she asked, voice trembling.

"Love." was his soft reply. At one moment it looked like he was finished, but then he leant over it again, quickly adding something. At last he gave a yawn and closed the book, before turning back to his chair where he curled himself up and closed his eyes. She didn't want to go over to him. She didn't want to have to experience that again. Instead she went to the book and, fingers trembling, opened it.

_Nate Rivers. _It read. _Peacefully in his sleep._

* * *

**A/****N: So this was something that happened... on a whim... I'M SORRY!**_  
_


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